


Something To Hold Onto

by crystalkei



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, post season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalkei/pseuds/crystalkei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 100 Big Bang fic! </p><p>Clarke has been walking for three days trying to come to terms with her decisions and how to live with the person she’s become after everything that’s happened in Mount Weather. Bellamy finds her and offers a field trip if she wants in. Travel 250 miles to where another section of the Ark fell to collect a part Raven needs. </p><p> </p><p>“Should take, what, a week to walk that far? If we don’t have any problems?” she asked and she watched Bellamy as he tried not to smile. He knew he had her. </p><p> </p><p>Just pretend it’s a two week long Day Trip! With a found polaroid camera, an old man who swears a lot, a sexy library, and a good old fashion kidnapping by fanatics!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE thanks to Sharna for the beautiful artwork that she made. You can find it on tumblr!  
> http://cupcakesandtv.tumblr.com/post/121884485087/something-to-hold-onto-a-the100bigbang-fic
> 
> Rena did a fab job as my beta! And all my pals that read over and helped me work through some stumbling blocks, they're the best! 
> 
> Spanish translations done by Marcy and I'm so grateful to her for the native speaker help! 
> 
> I chose to break this into chapters by day. I change POVs every day and some of the days start after midnight because that's just how it had to work.

She’d been walking for days, but really in a giant circle. Her steps were delicate now to try to relieve the aching in her feet. She wanted to lie down and be safe without worry of anything coming at her, a place where she could be warm, and that’s how she ended up back in the drop ship.    
  
Clarke made her way to the top level, shut the hatch, took off her boots, and sprawled out on a patch of floor, covering herself with a scrap of parachute fabric that they’d use for a tent at some point. It smelled terrible and the floor was hard but she was exhausted. She’d not stopped walking to sleep at any point, she’d just walked until she could barely stand so she slept soundly.   
  
That is, until the hatch opened. She didn’t know how long she’d slept but she sat up quickly, reaching for her pistol but when she saw the dark curly hair coming up the ladder she relaxed.    
  
“And your mother worried you couldn’t protect yourself.”

The irony of her mother knowing about all the people she’d killed recently but still thinking that Clarke was weak and helpless on her own struck her but she didn’t dwell on it.   
  
“Fuck her,” she mumbled scrubbing the sleep from her eyes and lying back down a minute.

“I’d rather not,” he replied dryly, his face straight. Clarke’s whole body shivered and her face scrunched together. 

“Jesus, gross, Bellamy!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. She sat up to fix him with a glare but felt it weaken as she looked at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked. He tried to school his face but he couldn’t quite hide his smile. 

“I just…” he looked away and continued. “Just missed you is all.” Bellamy turned back to her. “You don’t want to hear it, but I think your mom and Kane are,” he paused and raised his eyebrows.   
  
Clarke made the same disgusted face as before. “Did you come find me just to make me want to puke? Bellamy, that’s my mom,” 

“Oh right, your parents only had sex the one time, just to bring you into existence.”

“We’re not talking about my parents, we’re talking about my mom and another man. I don’t even want to,” Clarke made a gagging sound and went on, “do you think about your own mother that way?”  
  
“Your mom is very different than my mom was,” Bellamy said easily.

Clarke put a hand on her forehead. “Why are we talking about this?”   
  
“I dunno, I was honestly just hoping you’d laugh,” he added awkwardly. Clarke tried not to break. But she looked away herself now, schooling her features. She didn’t want to laugh but she’d missed Bellamy too and he seemed so…genuinely light and happy right now. She wanted to feel that way too. She wanted to not feel tired or sad or broken.  

“Okay, how’d you know I’d be here?” she sat up, reaching for her boots but Bellamy snatched them and tossed them away from her. She huffed and gave him an annoyed look.   
  
“It’s the middle of the night, we’re not going anywhere right now.”

“Maybe I was going to,” she shot back, suddenly defensive. He shrugged.   
  
“Suit yourself, but it’s pouring rain.”

“You’re not wet.” Clarke was just fighting to fight. Since he mentioned it she noticed the soft tapping of rain falling on the drop ship metal.   
  
“I got in right before it started.” He wasn’t at all ruffled by her mood.   
  
“So why did you come here anyways?”

“I can’t believe you slept with that parachute.” Bellamy dodged the question. “It smells like shit, I left a pack for you downstairs.” She looked confused and he explained, “The day you left, I brought it out, just in case you came back here.”   
  
“And you’ve what? Come back here every night since?” 

“I’m not a lost puppy without you, Clarke,” he answered the smile coming off his face for the first time. “I figured you could use some supplies and I thought you might come here at some point.”

“Oh,” she said, looking down, feeling embarrassed.

“I did come out tonight hoping you’d be here, though, so that’s lucky.” He moved to lean against one of the walls of the drop ship and crossed his arms. That was Bellamy’s business stance. She’d only been gone three days, surely something hadn’t gone terribly wrong since then. 

“I’m not coming back, not yet,” she spit out quickly. Bellamy gave the slightest nod of his head.

“Wasn’t going to ask you.” Clarke relaxed at his comment. “But how do you feel about a field trip?” Now she sighed. If he thought he could get her to come back by being with a smaller group of people, he was wrong. She started to open her mouth but Bellamy cut her off. 

“Just you and me, no one else.” She drew her brows together and pursed her lips.   
  
“Don’t you need to stay here, with them? I don’t trust my mom and Kane and…” she trailed off, she wasn’t really sure why she was arguing now. Maybe if she weren’t so tired she could think of all the really painful reasons she wanted to be alone, but after days of walking, the solitude really hadn’t done much. And if it was just Bellamy, well, that was different. He seemed to read her mind and right now, she hated that he could.   
  
“I understand you don’t want to be with them. But you can be with me, right? I don’t, I’m different,” he paused and swallowed like her answer my physically pain him. “Right? You know that I don’t, I don’t look at you that way, the way you’re scared they’ll look at you. You know that, right?” His eyes pleaded, this was almost worse than the day she’d left him at the gate.  
  
Avoiding the question was better. She took a deep breath. “Where’re you going? Why?” Bellamy took the hint and put the sad eyes away, thank god. Back to business.

“There’s another Ark station. It landed about 250 miles from here. South. It had an engineering shop, lots of tools that Wick and Raven need, but one is specific. Something technical. Honestly, I wasn’t really listening. I zoned out while they went on and on, it was like they were speaking another language. But they need it to get some solar panels up, something electrical, I dunno, it’s going to make it so the whole camp can have power.”  
  
“Are there people there? Do we know if anyone survived? How do they even know where it landed?” Clarke asked, switching gears into logistics.   
  
“There’s a beacon, Monty and Raven rigged me a tracker for it. And we don’t think there are survivors, but that’s secondary to the part. Seeing if anyone survived. There’s just been the standard automated message though, so we don’t think,” he shook his head and lowered his voice. “We don’t think there’s anyone still alive.”   
  
Clarke tried to put her mind on hold. She wanted a break. But after the days of walking, she really wanted to do this. Turns out walking and thinking about your feelings, your sins, the horrific things you’d done, turns out that was really not therapeutic. It was more a punishment. And while she hated what she’d done, she wasn’t sure self-flagellation was for her. She didn’t have the stomach for it. And this was just Bellamy. Three days ago he’d offered her absolution and begged her to stay. And she’d so desperately wanted to take it. She almost hoped he’d ask to come with her. That wasn’t what she needed but something about him offering to come would have been comforting.

“Should take, what, a week to walk that far? If we don’t have any problems?” she asked and she watched Bellamy as he tried not to smile. He knew he had her.

“Yeah, I’ve mapped out a route, but it’s coast line for a lot of the way, to avoid some of the nastier clans.” He pulled a map out of his back pocket and came towards her, taking a knee and spreading the map on the floor in front of her. 

“The nastier clans?”

“Lincoln said this area,” he pointed on the map, “it’s been settled by two clans that really don’t like each other so they often erupt in little skirmishes. We don’t want to get caught in that. I’m pretty sure even mentioning Lexa’s name there gets us taken by knifepoint.” Clarke tried not to cringe at the mention of the commander. She certainly didn’t want to discuss any of that event with Bellamy. But he seemed excited that she’d agreed to come and didn’t notice.   
  
“When we get it, when we come back, I’m still not going home,” Clarke said softly. Bellamy closed his eyes for a few seconds, his jaw clenched.   
  
“I know,” he said before standing up and heading to the hatch. She didn’t want to read into his reaction. She couldn’t let herself. But he’d already admitted to missing her. He wanted her around but he also would give her the space she needed. One more reason to feel guilty, he’d be angry if he knew she was going to take that on, too.   
  
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning, but you need to eat and sleep.” Bellamy started down the ladder.   
  
“Where’re you going?” she asked with a half smile.   
  
“To get the packs. I’m not sleeping with that smelly parachute, and you need to eat, so,” he disappeared down the ladder and reappeared a minute later, tossing two bags through the hatch. Clarke realized she was hungry, she hadn’t eaten since yesterday, and it was just some winter berries she’d run across. Bellamy packed jerky and she needed the protein.

“Maybe I should have come here sooner,” she said before putting a piece of jerky in her mouth. Bellamy just shook his head as he rolled out a few blankets. He wanted to say something about her leaving, but he didn’t, and she was grateful.

“You want to hear all the gossip? I mean besides the fact that your mom is probably doing Kane.” Clarke threw her head back and made a face.  
  
“If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d spit this food out of my mouth in disgust.” Bellamy laughed and Clarke tried not to think about how she really appreciated this relaxed version of him. “Fine, tell me the gossip, the stuff that doesn’t involve my mother, please.”   
  
She listened for the next hour while Bellamy told her tales of things changing at camp. Of the kids that were reunited with living parents, who seemed to be getting closer to who, little fights over tent space and where everyone was sleeping.

Clarke drifted off to sleep as he spoke, and she thought maybe she could sleep soundly, no thoughts of the atrocities she’d committed.


	2. Day 1

Day One

  
  
“Why are we walking this way?” Clarke asked as they came to the top of the ridge. Beneath them was the easy path to Camp Jaha, her question had an edge to it so he flashed her a quick smile trying to put her at ease.

“Just need to get close enough to let Octavia know I don’t need her.” Bellamy pulled the radio out of his pack, flipped it on, and listened to the static a second. Clarke seemed to relax. “Should be able to pick up the frequency if we go around the back side, by where the armory is now, my tent’s back there and it’s early enough in the day that Octavia will still be there.”  
  
They’d started even earlier. Clarke was up an hour before the sun rose. She spent all night tossing and turning and then he heard her rummaging through the pack he’d brought her. By the time he decided to get up, she was out of the long coat she’d been wearing with the pointless seatbelt across her chest and back into an Ark issued one. A beanie covered her hair as she paced.  
  
“You changed?” he asked scrubbing the remaining sleep out of his eyes.  
  
“I’ve been dying to get rid of that coat. It’s grungy and,” she stopped and glanced down at the jacket.  
  
“Probably want to shed the excess weight for the long walk,” he finished for her. Bellamy knew she was thinking about something else but he didn’t want to start on it so early. She shrugged and took the excuse.

“Are we ready?” Clarke asked, fidgeting with her hands, looking down. Bellamy nodded and started to gather his bedroll.

It wasn’t smiles like last night. He didn’t think she was regretting her decision to come with him, but she was different this morning. More reserved, her body language more closed off. But as they’d started out, she seemed to loosen up.  
  
“So Octavia thought it was a good idea for you to come find me for this?” Clarke asked as they made their way around the back of the camp. He knew why Clarke was asking. Octavia had already told him how upset she was with Clarke. He knew she had a point but he had moved passed that anger at the system. Bellamy didn’t think Clarke was recreating the old system of expendable people serving those in charge. She was just trying to keep everyone alive.

“She didn’t argue.” Mostly because he didn’t really give her a chance to, Bellamy stopped walking. He could see the fence about 100 yards away and figured this was close enough. Turning the dial on the handheld radio, the sound of static filled the air. 

“Maybe you need to go a little further?” Clarke offered, leaning against a tree behind him.  
  
“It’s fine.” He found the right channel and spoke into the radio. “Octavia?”

Nothing.  
  
He called her name again, his finger firm on the button. 

“Is it breakfast time? She might have forgotten the radio in the tent, or something could have happened,” Clarke offered but Bellamy shook his head and tried one more time. He was about to walk a little closer when a huffy sounding voice came back.  
  
“Did you find her or do I have to put pants on and come out there with you?” Clarke covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.  
  
“You should be wearing pants at all times, O,” Bellamy responded back.

“Do you really want to know, Bellamy?” Octavia said with a hint of laughter. He shuddered and made a face.  
  
“No, I don’t.” He shook his head. “Clarke’s coming with me, but remember what I told you, don’t let anyone know that, okay?”

“Yeah, fine, be safe,” she signed off shortly. Bellamy pulled his bag off his back and shoved the radio in a pocket. That’s when he saw Clarke smiling.  
  
“Don’t,” Bellamy tried.  
  
“If you hadn’t done the thing last night with my mom, I wouldn’t have to say this,” she said, holding up her hands with a shrug. “But Octavia was totally having sex. That’s why you couldn’t get her on the radio. That was sex voice.”

Bellamy closed his eyes and took a deep breath in through his nose. “I’m trying not to think about it. That’s my sister.”

“You started it,” she said as she came off the tree she’d been leaning on. She clapped his arm. “Pay back’s a bitch.”  
  
Bellamy shoved her a little using his shoulder and started walking again. “I hate you.”  


 

As the day had gone on, they spoke sparingly or walked in silence. It didn’t bother him and Clarke walked easily near him, the discomfort from the morning gone. Bellamy tried not to dwell on how easy it was for them to work together like this. He wanted to enjoy the time with her, but he also knew this wasn’t going to mend her. There was nothing he wanted more than to fix her but he didn’t have the tools. And maybe she wasn’t broken really. Everything that happened to them, she deserved some time on her own, a sabbatical of sorts.

In the late afternoon they decided to stop. They’d covered enough ground and he suspected Clarke hadn’t really caught up on all her missed sleep since her pace slowed greatly as the sun started to move lower in the sky. 

They sat staring into the fire, sitting next to each other for a few minutes in silence. Finally he spoke, he tried to keep it light but he knew the content of the words would bring her down swiftly.  
  
“So what happened when I left?” Clarke instantly shut down. He was sitting close enough to her that their legs were touching but it was like he was suddenly fire she needed to move away from. Her muscles tensed and she took a sharp breath, pulling back visibly. “Never mind,” he tried to say to calm her but the damage was done.

“Octavia didn’t fill you in?” Her voice cracked a little and he cringed feeling like he was physically hurting her by even asking. She wasn’t ready to talk about it.  
  
“She did, but she only knows what she knows. And she was…” he trailed off not wanting to finish. She was still angry with Clarke. Bellamy knew his sister’s feelings were influenced by her view of how things _should_ have gone.  Octavia was operating with a narrow view and her life had been at stake in the event. So of course, she was upset. And she could stay upset. That was fine. “Octavia wasn’t with you, she was off doing whatever the hell with Indra, and I’ve heard what she did while I was gone, I was just asking what you did. But I only asked because…well, it was something to talk about,” he lied. Bellamy wanted to know and he wanted to gauge how bad she felt about it. He wanted to know how much of her needing to leave, how much damage was done while they were apart and how much was what happened while they were together at Mount Weather.  
  
“What happened to you in the mountain?” she shot back quickly.

“You know what happened. I told you. I got in, worked to keep everyone safe, disabled the fog, fought until you got there.” All of that was true, but it wasn’t all of what happened. He didn’t ever want to tell Clarke about being hung upside down, scrubbed until he bled, or treated like an animal. He didn’t want to tell anyone about that and he certainly didn’t want Clarke trying to take on responsibility for something that wasn’t her fault. So he decided to drop the questions anyway. Something equally upsetting had obviously happened to her so he didn’t need to know. She could keep it to herself and he could keep his stuff and they’d just go forward without the gaps being closed.

“Sorry I asked,” Bellamy said sincerely. And that was that.

 


	3. Day 2

Day Two

 

“What do you miss most about the Ark?” Clarke asked Bellamy. They’d been walking in the sunshine and even though it was chilly, she noticed the further south they walked the easier the chill was to shut out with a zip of her coat.   
  
She was in front of Bellamy so she looked back at him to see him answer but he scrunched up his face.

“My sister was in detention, my mother was dead, and I was picking up trash and mopping floors…I don’t miss  _anything_ about the Ark.” Clarke pouted and Bellamy continued, “You were in lock up and your dad was killed for trying to expose a government secret. What could  _you_ possibly miss from that floating bucket of bolts?”

Clarke turned back to the path in front of her, debating whether to answer. She’d meant it as a sort of game. Not as some serious conversation about all that was wrong with their old life in space. After a minute she replied, “Running water. I miss showers and toilets and not having to hike to get a drink.”

“If you needed to refill your water, why didn’t you just say so?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“I’m fine, I was just thinking. I didn’t hate living on the Ark so I guess I just have different memories of it.” Clarke realized beyond knowing that Bellamy was in the working class and the quick rundown of his mother and sister, she really didn’t know about his time on the Ark. She wondered if they’d ever get a chance to be close enough to share those kinds of things.

“Raven thinks we can have running water at Camp Jaha by the spring, did I tell you that?” Bellamy said suddenly. 

“If anyone can do it, Raven can,” Clarke answered proudly. “But really, running water? By spring?”

“Yeah, three teams: housing, food, and infrastructure.” He ticked off the list on his fingers. “Raven has people pulling piping from the Ark station to lay for real running water,” he explained as they continued walking. “Wick thinks it’s going to be next winter before it’s all done, but Raven is really pushing for spring. She thinks it’s doable.”  
  
“What do the other teams do?” Clarke asked wondering how much input Bellamy had in all these plans.   
  
“Housing is working to build two large bunk house type buildings. Everyone could cram into the Ark structure for the cold winter nights but it’s too crowded, your mom was worried people would get sicker in those kind of conditions, so they’re gathering lumber, bringing it back to camp to build the bunkhouses. After the winter, they’ll start construction on smaller individual homes, and the bunk houses will be repurposed, probably a school, some work spaces for people.”

“That’s amazing,” Clarke said turning to him, he smiled. “What about food?” 

“So Monty and his dad are working on greenhouses,” as Bellamy spoke his hands moved in expression to show the arch of a potential greenhouse. He was excited to tell her and she couldn’t help but smile back at his enthusiasm. “There were seeds in the factory station we found before, they’re deciding which of the heartier foods can be grown in the greenhouses over the winter. Everyone that’s not working on the greenhouses is hunting for more game to stock up, any edible plants they can figure out. Monroe stumbled across what we’re pretty sure are a kind of potato.”   
  
“I was only gone three days, how did all of this happen?” she asked surprised.

“Turns out when we’re not scared someone’s coming to kill us, it’s easy to steer people in the right direction. But fuck if the meetings weren’t boring as shit. Kane went on and on, I had to listen to Sinclair talk about what kind of plan for the bunkhouses would be most efficient, pretty sure I fell asleep a few times.”

“You were in a council meeting?” Clarke hoped Kane would let Bellamy do more. If she wasn’t there, he was the only one she trusted.

“Yeah, they’re so slow. I had to put a stop to three arguments over petty bullshit the first morning before I finally blew up. They don’t understand how doing everything on the ground is different and they want to bring politics into it. But once we got that settled, they focused more on getting a real plan set up. People were excited to be working when I left.” She was so proud of him. But she couldn’t fight the twinge of sadness. Her people were doing just fine without her.

“I’m glad,” she said evenly and Bellamy tilted his head. He probably knew what she was thinking but again, he let it go. Maybe he was remembering how terribly their conversation last night had gone. Bellamy looked around for a moment, taking in the area, before he pulled the map out of his bag. “Are we lost?” she asked.

He took a few seconds hovering over the map.

“No, but what if we go this way, more east and then south? I read that the bombs and the global warming caused a lot of the eastern seaboard to be lost to the ocean’s rising water. I wonder how far inland it came.” His eyes studied the map intensely. It was an older map, probably salvaged from a council office. “It wouldn’t add much more mileage to the walk and it’d be good information to have.”  
  
“Okay, Lewis,” she said, her lips quirking up. Bellamy glanced up at her with a disapproving look. “Lewis and Clark?” she gestured to him and then to herself. “The explorers?”

“I know who you’re talking about.” His face still unimpressed. 

“It was a joke,” she said, still smiling.

“The point of jokes is that they’re funny,” he replied. But she saw his eyes narrow like he was trying to keep a straight face.   
  
“You think it’s funny.” He rolled his eyes.   
  
“We’re not anywhere the Mississippi,” Bellamy said, lifting the map to show her the lack of the notable river.   
  
“You’re just mad I thought of it first,” Clarke said with a shake of her head. She turned to walk away but Bellamy grabbed her hand. The simple touch sent an electric shock through her and she looked back at him surprised. He smiled easily so she returned the gesture, trying to hide her previous reaction.  
  
“If we’re going to head east, we need to walk this direction,” he said with a tilt of his head towards the opposite direction. 

“Oh,” she said hoping she didn’t sound as off kilter as she felt. He let go of her hand as her feet shifted to follow him. Clarke didn’t want to think about how she wished he hadn’t.

The truth was she craved his touch. At first, Clarke thought all the difficult things that happened since they’d landed on Earth just made her enjoy any physical connection at all. It reminded her she was breathing and alive and whole. But sleeping with Finn felt tainted by the discovery of Raven and then everything that followed. She moved from that thought quickly, anything about him could make her feel guilty instantly. Her kiss with Lexa was like reaching for something that wasn’t genuine, just a heady, frantic, disaster. It was a maybe that was gone too soon wedged in the wrong time.

Even her own mother’s embrace wasn’t enough to make her feel safe anymore. A product of adulthood or the rift between them, she wasn’t sure. Probably both.   
  
But with Bellamy it wasn’t needy or taken in the middle of insanity, his touches were purposeful, always when she needed them most. The touch of a shoulder to remind her a break was needed, a hand on her knee to comfort her, to verify her safety, even a hand over hers to try and share the weight, they grounded her, even now it was like he was trying to show her she wasn’t the monster she knew she’d become. Maybe one day she’d believe in those touches, but today, even with the light mood, she wondered if he’d listen to Octavia or Jasper and decide that she wasn’t worthy of his comforting hands.  

 


	4. Day 3

Day Three

 

 

 

Bellamy woke to Clarke thrashing. They were in close quarters, a small rock overhang above them. He picked the place to sleep because they both needed to sleep tonight and this was safe enough, brush covering the front, hiding them from any predators or people that might be out.   
  
“Clarke,” he tried, but she wasn’t waking. She kept mumbling.

“No good plans!” He heard her say and shut his eyes tight. The last thing he wanted to do was play therapist because the last time he did that to a kid with a nightmare it ended in someone’s death. But this was Clarke, she wasn’t just anyone and he hated to see her suffer this. Bellamy sat up and tried again.

“Clarke?” That seemed to bring her out of it. She sucked in air and stopped moving. She didn’t roll over to look at him, Bellamy was relieved by that. “You good?” he asked. She stayed silent for almost a full minute before finally speaking.

“No,” her voice broke. 

“Is there…I don’t know what to do,” Bellamy said honestly. “It happens to…” he stopped again, not wanting to reveal anything, knowing her guilt complex could go toe to toe with his own. She finally rolled over and faced him, it was clear she’d wiped tears from her eyes.

“Can you just give me something to hold on to?” she whispered. He swallowed before lying back down. Holding out his arm, she turned on her side and clasped her hand around his forearm then closed her eyes.  Bellamy turned on his side and covered her hand with his other and tried to go back to sleep without the picture of children going to school in their mountain home.

 


	5. Day 4

Day Four

 

 

She walked right into Bellamy’s back. His arm reached around to pat her hip gently. “You finally out of that haze,” he asked over his shoulder. Clarke moved quickly to his side, avoiding the thoughts, again, of how nice it felt to be close to him. It was getting harder to ignore, though.   
  
“I wasn’t in a haze. I’m just...” She stopped and saw the vast gray building. “What am I looking at?” It was long, two stories, covered in foliage, but it looked mostly intact. She didn’t even see many broken windows.   
  
“I don’t know. But we _have_ to go inside,” he said looking wild eyed. Clarke looked for the sun in the sky, it was late afternoon, this seemed a good enough place to stop and take a break, maybe even stay overnight if it wasn’t occupied by some hungry animals.   
  
“Lead the way,” she started to say, but Bellamy was already walking towards the building at a breakneck pace. His longer legs carrying him further.

By the time she caught up to him he’d already yanked a side door open and was waiting impatiently for her to walk through it. It was musty inside. A smell she couldn’t quite place struck her, it made her think of her father. They were standing in a long hallway, but in front of them were two glass double doors and behind those doors were books, they covered the floor of a huge room. Bellamy brushed past her quickly and pulled one of the glass doors open, this time not bothering to wait for Clarke, he tried to walk without stepping on them, but they were everywhere. He bent over and picked one up, it was like he forgot she was there at all. He gasped and bent over to pick another book up. 

Now she knew why the smell reminded her of her father, he had a box of old books. They were worth a fortune, but he kept them hidden away and would take them out yearly to show Clarke and tell her about each one, what the book was about, how the book came to be in his possession. Clarke tried not to tear up thinking about it, she swallowed the painful thought that she couldn’t remember any of the titles of the books he owned.   
  
Shifting her attention back to Bellamy, she saw he’d made a path through all the books on the floor and was carrying a stack of them. There was a table he’d just reached and placed the books on before shifting through the stack and opening a book. 

“Going to do some light reading?” she teased. “I don’t think we can carry all those home.”

“We can come back and collect the books that are still in good condition. I can’t believe so many of them are still readable. The spines are intact! It’s just crazy!”

“I never pegged you for such a book worm.”   
  
“Yeah, I know. From the first day you met me you’ve continually acted like I’m an idiot.” Bellamy made a face then she thought she heard him mumble, “Do I know who Oppenheimer is? I mean really.” She smiled to herself.

“So you want to give up your seat on the council to run the brand new Blake Library, filled with old books?”

“I could do both,” he huffed, grabbing another couple of books off the floor.

“I’m going to go check out the other rooms, see if there’s a place for us to sleep tonight,” she said but Bellamy just waved her off. The way he was acting, it was safe to assume they were done walking for the day. Engrossed with a book in his hand, his fingers over his lips and holding chin, he looked so different and Clarke wondered if this was what Bellamy was like back on the Ark, if this was who he was.

It took her about an hour but she saw every other room in the building. There were offices, most of the furniture gone but a lamp or a chair here and there. A couple of bathrooms where Clarke turned the knobs on the sink as though something might come out. She laughed to herself at the thought of 100-year-old plumbing still working. On the second floor there was an identical room as the book room downstairs, this one still had the shelves in it though. Downstairs she imagined people trying to survive taking the shelves for wood or using them for any number of things, leaving the books on the floor as they weren’t much good. Even 97 years ago they had had info pads and digital books. Why carry the heavy books around?

The floor of that room wasn’t covered in books, instead the books were still mostly on shelves. The windows were all intact so after making sure they were truly alone in the building, she set her pack there before going to find Bellamy again.   
  
Despite the fading light, he was still reading, almost in the same spot she left him in, but the table now had at least 30 more books on it. Clarke wondered if it might buckle from the weight of all the stacks. As she approached him, using the path he’d cleared on the floor, she saw him squinting.   
  
“Your eyes are going to go bad,” she said and Bellamy startled. “You really didn’t hear me come up? Good to know the best time to kill you is when you’re reading.”

He glared at her and went back to the book as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a flashlight. She shone the light on the book.

“I didn’t even notice the sun going down,” he admitted, running a finger down the page to note his place before closing the book.

“Just dog ear your spot and let’s go,” she said. His face turned horrified.

“Bend a page in the book to keep my spot? Are you kidding? These books are in amazing shape. Why would I ruin them like that, Clarke? Never do that, Clarke, do not treat old books like that. They’ve survived an nuclear apocalypse but you’re going to come along and suggest I bend the pages?”

Clarke lowered her brows and just stared at him. “You finished lecturing?”

Bellamy pursed his lips but nodded. “Just be careful with any books, okay?”  
  
“I found a spot upstairs that we can safely sleep for the night, there’s even books up there,” she added when he looked disappointed at the idea of leaving this room. “Of course in the room upstairs they’re not on the floor so we actually have somewhere to sleep.”  
  
“Did you see any signs? This was obviously non-fiction down here. I’ve only found a few fiction books thrown in. Probably by people scavenging way back when.” He gestured to the far corner. “There’s some encyclopedias over there, those are a trip!”

Clarke tried not to laugh by biting the inside of her cheek. Bellamy noticed.   
  
“Are you telling me you don’t like books?” He looked offended.   
  
“I like books. Just…well I’m not getting a boner over books so I think I like them less than you.” She didn’t stifle her laugh this time.

“That’s inappropriate around the books.”  

“Not all the books.” Clarke lifted her eyebrows giving him a saucy look.

“I already said this is the non fiction, if you want to find a copy of Madam Bovary I’m sure that’s upstairs.”   
  
“Madam Bovary wasn’t exactly what I was going for,” she said shaking her head.   
  
“It’s a classic,” he argued.

“My mother used to say ‘classic’ is to describe boring books no one liked but they knew they were supposed to like.” Bellamy clutched his chest in shock. “Oh give it a rest. Let’s go upstairs. Before it gets creepy to walk the halls.”

“I don’t even want to know what trashy pop fiction you enjoy, Clarke. I want to keep our friendship alive through this difficult time of you mocking and possibly mistreating books,” he said handing her a couple of books to carry while he grabbed his pack and a few more books to follow her upstairs.   
  
“We should be looking for useful books, like I dunno, books on local plant life, geography, medical texts…” Clarke continued as they walked through the hall and headed upstairs. 

“The apocalypse and global warming fucked with geography, medical stuff’s going to be out of date, it’s not like the Poor Richard’s Almanac from 100 years ago is going to help us plant crops this spring.”

“So we just read Flaubert and hope for the best?” Clarke asked with a tilt of her head before opening the door where her pack was left. Bellamy started to argue but she cut him off. “Besides, who wants to read about bored French housewives who spend their time cheating on their husbands?”  
  
Bellamy looked surprised at the revelation that she had indeed, read Madam Bovary. She turned to put the books on a table near her made up bedroll.  
  
“I passed old Earth lit with flying colors and if I have to read about unhappy women I’ll read The Awakening again,” Clarke faced him in time to see his face soften. “What?”

“I hate that book, but at least you liked something worth reading.” Bellamy dumped his bag without care, instead gently placing the books he carried on the table by the pile Clarke made. Clarke rubbed her eyes and shook her head. This was ridiculous. She had to get him out of this place, it was making him weird. “We have to leave tomorrow bright and early tomorrow, we’ll come back for books later, okay? You can’t really carry all of those out of here.” 

“I know,” Bellamy said rolling his eyes at her.

“And you can’t stay up all night reading, you need to sleep,” she added. Bellamy blew air out of his mouth like a petulant child.

“Go find something to read, you need to loosen up, or grab that book with the green cover on the table, it’s water damaged so the text is gone from the pages. Sketch something and leave me alone.” Clarke’s face lit up. 

“Buried the lead there, Blake,” she said, rushing for the book. She thumbed through it and saw that indeed, the pages were yellowed and blank, some still had a grayish tint from the old text fading.   
  
“There’s a pencil in your pack, the front pocket,” he said as he sat down on the threadbare carpet against the wall, his legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.   
  
“Okay well I take back everything,” she said, digging into the bag for the pencil. Before she started in on a blank page she reached over to Bellamy’s knee. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. His lips quirked up.   
  
“Now who’s got a boner?” Clarke tilted her head and giggled. Did he just? “I mean you! With the sketching! Not…” he stumbled over the words. “That’s not what I meant!” Clarke cracked up now, throwing her head back. Bellamy’s face was serious for a few seconds before he shook his head and laughed too.   



	6. Day 5

Day Five

 

So maybe it wasn’t a great idea to stay up reading, and maybe Clarke was right, he should have closed the book much earlier. But he was pretty sure she was just messing with him now. The sun was barely up and she was getting her stuff together, not at all quietly. He cracked an eye to see her kneeling over her bag, she slipped a book inside, the one he found her for sketching, she must have felt him staring because she turned and smiled wide at him.  
  
“Rise and shine,” she said in a singsong voice. He almost smiled back but some clouds moved outside the window and he was suddenly blinded by the sun through the glass. He moved a hand to shield his eyes.

“I’m not saying we should sleep in today, but we should sleep in,” Bellamy grumbled.

“Aw, poor you, up too late with the books,” she said with a fake pout. “We’ve got things to do!” She clapped her hands twice in a rhythm that was meant to make him get up quickly. “We’re burning daylight and we’re almost out of water. The map makes it look like we’re pretty close to the coast, so how about checking out the ocean?”

“This isn’t a vacation and we can’t drink sea water,” Bellamy said, finally sitting up, running his hands through his hair, trying to make it sit right.

“There’s a river that feeds into the ocean, dumbass, look,” she handed him the map and pointed to a river that did indeed feed into the ocean.

“Fine, fine,” he gave in. Clarke was rude to expect him to process logical thought this early.  

  
  
They found the river easily, except it was more like a stream. It took the better part of the day, but they followed it almost to the sea. By late afternoon Bellamy had caught an animal that might once have been a bunny but with it’s three limbs instead of four and shorter ears, he really wasn’t sure. Clarke washed up in the stream while he’d hunted so she offered to skin it and cook it so Bellamy could do the same.

It was all a little too domestic and Bellamy didn’t want to attach any feelings to the idea. He was trying his best to support her, but that meant he didn’t expect her to come back with him. She’d made it very clear. As much as he would let himself hope in a perfect world, his life didn’t allow for things to go his way like that. Bellamy had no problem pushing away his own desires in favor of what was best for her. If Clarke didn’t want to come back, he certainly wouldn’t stop her. But even in these few days spent with her, he knew the sting of her leaving again would be worse than the first time.

“I think the meat is cooked well enough,” Clarke said as he walked up.

Bellamy noticed Clarke glancing at him, then looking to the fire where the food was, she did it a few times before he realized. The further south they traveled, despite it being winter, it was warmer, especially on a day like today where the sun was shining. He’d thrown his shirt over his shoulder and walked back with his chest bare. His normal reaction would be to tease or flirt, but in this instance he didn’t want to push Clarke. Bellamy knew she’d been through a lot emotionally, like himself, probably more if he ever got those days he was gone filled in, so instead he pulled his shirt over his head and didn’t say anything. He did smile to himself though, he didn’t hate the idea that she was staring.

“Did you hear that?” she asked, her cheeks flush.   
  
“I didn’t hear anything, do you want me to go check it out?” he asked worried.   
  
“No, no, I’ll go look around, just uh, eat,” Clarke said, tripping over some of the words.   
  
Clarke was gone long enough that her portion of the meat was a little overcooked. Which it turns out was better for her in the long run since three hours later Bellamy was puking out everything in his stomach.

 

“You look terrible,” Clarke whispered. Did she think he wouldn’t hear that? He would have given her some kind of witty comeback but he felt the bile rising too fast. Bellamy turned to the side and vomited again.

He’d woken in cold sweats, all his muscles feeling tight, and then he tasted the acidic saliva. He didn’t have time to carefully extract his arm from Clarke’s grip, instead he bolted up and took as many steps as he could before he had to bend over. His body shook with the heaving and after two episodes of this, he had to kneel down before his legs gave out.

So now he’d just finished his third round of retching and Clarke was bringing him water that he didn’t even want to rinse with for fear of some drop of it coming right back up to haunt him.

“I’m fine,” Bellamy said sharply pushing the canteen away so forcefully Clarke almost dropped it.

“Fine’s not exactly the word I’d use to describe you right now, Bellamy,” she responded with an edge to her voice. All the pink in her cheeks and coy looks from earlier in the evening gone. Vomit wasn’t sexy and Clarke had shifted from woman with feelings and attractions to clinical and business like. “What happened while you were out hunting? Did you drink water from the stream near that alcove with the fish?”

Swallowing hard before taking a deep breath through his nose gave Bellamy enough strength to respond to her questions.   
  
“You didn’t cook the meat enough,” he said, his throat raw and the acrid taste still on his tongue. Clarke looked at him skeptically.

“Is that your professional medical opinion?” she asked crossing her arms. Bellamy closed his eyes again as he felt the saliva in his mouth increase again.

 “It happened to three of the kids, when you were gone, when Anya took you and Finn to try and save her second,” he managed to get out before turning away and throwing his head back in hopes that gravity might help keep the last bits of liquid in his stomach from coming up. Two more deep breaths and then he continued. “When I was a nine I got it. No virus feels like this. Food poisoning,” he croaked before his body shook with the force of it again.

Bellamy took a few seconds to collect himself once he’d finished, seeing that all that was coming up was disgusting clear liquid, nothing else left in his stomach he desperately hoped this would be the end, at least for a while. He’d rather someone beat the shit out of him than continue heaving.   
  
“I think that’s it for a while,” Clarke said after inspecting the scene. He nodded in agreement as she guided him back to his bedroll. She pulled his blanket up around him and put the back of her hand on his forehead. “I don’t think you’ve got a fever.”  
  
“Of course I don’t, you gave me food poisoning.” His eyes were closed but he heard her huff with irritation and he imagined her typical glare when he suggested she was wrong.

“How did I do that? The meat cooked long enough!” She shoved at his shoulder a little with her knee as she stood up. He glanced at her and saw she was now kicking some dirt over the spot he’d puked.

“Maybe you were a little too busy checking out my impressive physique to properly verify the food was safe,” he threw it out sharply and watched Clarke’s back stiffen. She turned around and narrowed her eyes.

“You were going to catch pneumonia or something if you didn’t put your shirt on, that’s _all_ I was thinking about.” She moved to stoke the fire with excessive force and jumped back when a tendril of flame shot too high.

“Sure, sure,” Bellamy responded closing his eyes, unable to fight sleep anymore. His body hurt too much not to rest. “Just don’t set yourself on fire while I sleep off you trying to kill me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” he heard her say.

“Sorry if my hurling all over the place has disturbed your evening, Princess,” he breathed before falling asleep. In his last moments he regretted using the old nickname. It was tainted by Finn and he should probably apologize for it, but not now, tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow.

 


	7. Day 6

 Day Six

 

Clarke woke up with a terrible crick in her neck from falling asleep against a tree. She could have gone back to lie next to Bellamy but she was mad at him. And if she was being honest, she was acting like her mother, wanting to stay awake all night to verify the patient was fine. But she’d fallen asleep and now her legs were all pins and needles her back was itchy from the tree bark, and of course, her neck needed a good stretching.

As she rolled her head in a circular motion to loosen her neck, she thought back to why she was mad at Bellamy and she wasn’t actually sure. He was right, there’s nothing else that could have made him sick, and she was guilty of being distracted by his chest. But who wouldn’t be? Girls had thrown themselves at him since they’d hit the ground. She could allow herself the luxury of staring a minute. Despite thinking she’d gotten away with it at the time, it was clear he noticed and didn’t say anything, that is until hours later.

But something about the whole event was niggling at her and she was just annoyed at him. Some betrayal had happened and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

She stood up and did some more stretching trying to calm her screaming muscles then walked back to kneel down next to Bellamy. Like last night, she placed the back of her hand on his forehead, but maybe this time it was more like a gentle slap. He didn’t react and Clarke tilted her head to the side.  
  
“I’m not dead, I’m just so queasy and exhausted I don’t care that you slapped me,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Your breath is terrible,” she said making a face.

“Can’t imagine why,” he said eyes still closed, as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t think I can go far today.”

“God, you’re such a baby,” Clarke said irritation clear in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said, except it wasn’t at all sarcastic like she expected. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

“For what?” she asked sharply.

“Last night.” He reached for her hand that was resting against her thigh and held it. “I shouldn’t have called you ‘Princess,’ I know that’s sort of ruined for you and I know it probably brought up some shit that you didn’t want to mess with, so I’m sorry.”

Clarke felt a little queasy now herself. He knew before she did why she was upset. She hadn’t thought about Finn in days. And now he was taking up residence in her head again and Bellamy had put him there. But here he was, still sick as a dog, apologizing for it. She couldn’t be mad anymore. And she really didn’t want to think about how in tune he was with her.

Bellamy squeezed her hand a little and she startled.

“You okay?” he asked. Like he wasn’t the one lying on the ground sick and needing care, he was asking her how she was.

“I’m fine,” she told him honestly. She was fine _now_.  
  
“As soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew it was wrong, and I knew I needed to apologize but I was just so tired,” he said. She shrugged and tried to muster a smile.  
  
“Calm down, I’m the one that got you sick, I should probably be apologizing to you,” Clarke admitted. “We’re even.”

His faced looked relieved and he closed his eyes again.

“When I was out yesterday I saw some houses, can you believe that? I mean I think they were houses, they were three and four stories tall. All on the water, they’re still standing, maybe a mile away.” Clarke sighed and let go of his hand, turning to dig around in his bag for the map.

“You think you can make it a mile today? Because it’s going to rain and I don’t think you’ll recover well out in the open while being rained on,” she said.

“Yeah, I can smell the rain coming,” he mumbled. “I think I can make it to one of those houses.”

“Okay.”

 

It took him an hour, but he made it, she felt like she was half carrying him the whole way and was just as exhausted as he was by the time they reached the first beach house. It looked like it might have been teal at one time, but now it was faded and all the paint was cracked. She found a way in the back through a glass door that was busted, but there was a bedroom inside with a solid door and even a bed. She propped Bellamy up on the bare mattress and left him to go check out the rest of the place. Four floors and the only one she could safely see them staying on was the basement where she’d left Bellamy. The wood was weak in spots all over, she even put her foot through a step on the second flight of stairs. Clarke didn’t think the house would fall down on them, but she didn’t want to find out by putting too much weight on the floor.  
  
Back in the basement she found a room chocked full of the old kind of supplies: candles, a flare gun, canned food long expired, a few cans bulging with botulism, a suitcase with some miscellaneous items that she dragged out and placed in the room where Bellamy was now snoring. She wanted to go through it later just for something to pass the time. Everything smelled faintly of salt and seawater.

She walked outside and headed the 20 yards to where the ocean lapped against the sand. The sky was cloudy and the rain still threatened to fall but it was beautiful. Clarke had never seen the ocean from the ground and it seemed more vast than when she saw it from space. Soon she felt the raindrops on her face signaling the need to retreat back to the formerly teal house.

Clarke put the canteens outside and a few other containers she found that were mostly clean so they’d have some water, Bellamy had refused to eat earlier but she knew he’d need water and hopefully when he woke up, he wouldn’t be such a little shit about it.

A thunderclap woke Bellamy in late in the day. He requested water and she obliged.  
  
“Hungry yet?” she asked, resisting the urge to brush back the hair on his forehead. His face screwed up in disgust.

“Never. I will never be hungry again. I never want to eat again. Ever.” But he had color in his cheeks again and sat up easily. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“We killed all our enemies,” Clarke said in a moment of total honesty. He didn’t flinch. Instead his face softened.

“You said ‘we.’” She swallowed, flashing back to that day at the gates where he begged her to come inside and she turned and walked away.

“You offered, you said I could say-“

“We is right, that’s…that’s good,” he said cutting her off. “I just didn’t think you’d ever believe it.”

She nodded and Bellamy placed a reassuring hand on her knee. They sat in solemn silence for a moment before Clarke cleared her throat and stood up to grab the suitcase she pulled from the storage room earlier. She tried not to notice the way Bellamy’s fingers twitched on the mattress in the spot where her knee had previously been.

“Where’d that come from?” he asked, scooting over on the bed to give her space to put it down next to him. It was dusty and heavy and when she popped it open it smelled funny inside, but it was full of all sorts of things.

“I found it in a storage room, lots of supplies in there, nothing worth much, but I should light the candles I found,” Clarke said, standing so she could brighten things up enough to see what they were looking at. The sun was likely setting but the storm outside had it dark earlier than normal and the rain and wind was getting nastier by the minute so she shut the bedroom door to keep the wind breezing through the broken glass door just outside.

Bellamy was already digging through the treasures, thumbing through a magazine, tossing it to pick up what looked like an old radio, a tiny info pad maybe, a deck of cards. She gasped when he lifted up a boxy looking piece of heavy plastic with a strip of rainbow across the top. Clarke took it from him, he looked at her.  
  
“Do you know what this is?” she asked with a wide-eyed look and a huge smile across her face.

“Not a clue,” Bellamy answered as she slid a plastic latch on the side. With a pop the front flipped up to reveal a lens and flash. Clarke jumped and glanced at him eagerly but he shook his head, still having no idea what they’d found. Clarke turned the lens to face him, looked through the viewfinder and clicked, a flash went off and Bellamy screwed his eyes shut. “What the fuck? A camera that still works?”

The bottom of the camera started to hum and she happily pulled the white square out to look at it. It was a mass of grayness and her face fell.  
  
“You didn’t really think it would still work, did you?” he asked with a scoff.

“Just hoped, I guess.” She tossed the white-framed bit of gray on the side table. “A Polaroid camera, what a thing to pack in a bag.”

“Seems like a waste of paper and chemicals, why not just keep pictures on info pads like now?”

“They didn’t always have info pads, genius, and they need power,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. “Although that argument is rich coming from the guy who was ready to shed tears over books with intact spines a couple days ago.” Bellamy threw her a look.

“Do you think they, whoever left it here, do you think they just wanted to remember people?” Clarke asked. He pressed his lips together and looked down as though ingesting the words.

“I guess that’s probably why,” he finally answered. “I can’t remember my mother’s smile, she never smiled, not really. It’d be nice if I had some photographic evidence that her face ever did that.”

Again Clarke wondered how different their lives were on the Ark. How stark his upbringing must look against hers. Bellamy went back to riffling through the suitcase but she didn’t want to let that moment go. She wanted to share something with him.  
  
“Sometimes before I go to sleep I picture my dad, in my mind. I just want to remember him being happy.” He stopped his task but didn’t look at her, she saw him nod his head in understanding. Clarke looked away, the connection seemingly lost. But then she saw the photo on the side table. It was actually a photo now, a grumpy Bellamy blinded by the flash, his arm a blur as the camera caught him in the act of trying to cover his eyes. The white-bordered square was terrible quality, but she smiled giddily and her heart sped up thinking of the possibilities.  
  
“Look!” she squealed waving the photo in front of his face practically jumping up and down. He took the photo from her and examined it closely. Eyes all squinty and suspicious.

“That camera is broken, this is terrible quality.” He scowled over it. “My hair cannot look that bad.” Clarke laughed and reached out to tousle his hair but he ducked to get away from her.  
  
“You do need a haircut but don’t be too hard on yourself, you were just dying a few hours ago,” she said as he tossed the photo.

“Maybe the owner of this suitcase wanted the camera for naked pictures?” Bellamy said, his eyebrow going up and the hint of a smirk on his face. Clarke tilted her head in annoyance.

“You’re disgusting.”  
  
“The artist says I’m disgusting? Why does anyone sculpt nudes? I didn’t necessarily mean it sexually,” he defended clearly feeling more like himself and less like the man so sick he could barely move.

“Sure, sure, except you absolutely meant it in terms of sex, asshole,” Clarke said.

“Let me take one of you,” he said reaching for the camera in the suitcase again. She recoiled. “Not a naked photo, just a regular one, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Her cheeks felt hot so she turned away from him to hide her face. Mostly from the camera he was pointing at her, not because she didn’t want him to see her blush. Yeah.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “I’m already giving you more warning than you gave me.” She felt him reach out for her back pocket to try and turn her around. She gave in and turned and smiled shyly. 

“Cheese,” she said before he snapped the photo. Clarke pulled the warm square from the camera and put it on the side table again, then sat on the mattress, next to him. She took the camera, putting it out in front of her at arm’s length, and leaned into his shoulder. “Smile!” The camera flashed again and she grabbed the undeveloped photo.

“My turn, let me do it.” He sounded like a kid but she handed it to him. “My arms are longer anyways, this will make for a better picture.”  
  
He moved his arm around her and held the camera out in front of them. They repeated this process together or on each other for a while before the camera ran out of film.  
  
“Well that was fun while it lasted,” Clarke said with a sigh. Bellamy was looking over all the photos, now all lined up on the mattress in front of them, and smiling to himself. She thought about how easy and how often she smiled around him now and felt butterflies in her stomach. But then she immediately felt guilty for it. Everything she touched turned to dust and she couldn’t do that to him. She didn’t want that for him. And she didn’t deserve happiness anyway.

Clarke got up from the bed and walked out the door. She heard Bellamy call after her but she ignored him and he didn’t come after her. When she came back after sitting on the porch and watching the rain fall, he was asleep, he’d pulled out her blankets and made a spot for her next to him, and his arm was out in the middle of the bed.

Every night since she’d had that horrible nightmare of blood and bodies and impossible choices, he’d done exactly as she’d asked and given her something to hold onto. As she lie down next to him, she reached her hand out to grasp his forearm like a rope she held onto for dear life, and even though he was definitely asleep, his breathing even and deep, his other hand covered hers over his forearm. 


	8. Day 7

Day Seven

 

 

Bellamy woke to the sound of rushing water and cold toes. He looked around the room in that fuzzy haze of first light and couldn’t quite grasp what was wrong about the scene around him.

“Jesus Christ, I’m wet!” Clarke exclaimed bolting upright next to him, pulling her leg that had been dangling off the mattress up. There were jokes his brain wanted to make but he finally figured out what was wrong about the room. It was filling slowly with seawater. He sat up so quickly his head swam with a mild case of vertigo. Clarke had now started to pull her blanket and bedroll up further to keep it from getting wet.   
  
“Guess the tide came _way_ in. At least we put the packs up,” Bellamy mumbled glancing at their bags on top of an empty bookcase. He started to pull his sleeping materials up when he saw Clarke start to panic.  She abandoned her bedding, jumped off the bed, and started to grab at something in the rising water. There was maybe 18 inches of water in the room so far, and it was slow coming so he didn’t understand her panic until he saw what she was fishing for.

The photos were submerged. He’d tossed them off the mattress when he made up her spot the night before and now there were about 10 white-framed pieces of plastic-y paper floating in the water all around Clarke. She was picking them up and blowing on them as if that would stop the colors from running. The damage was already done but she wasn’t taking it very well. Whatever her problem had been last night, he was now sure it was tied to these pictures.

“Hey, I think it’s a lost cause,” he said reaching for her elbow but she shrugged him off and started to put the photos on the side table as she plucked them up.

“They’re ruined, of course they’re ruined, I ruin everything,” she muttered as he closed his eyes and sighed. Bellamy wanted to be able to help her sort through all her guilt but he was feeling more and more like he wasn’t actually capable. She needed different things than he did to help heal her so he was at a loss.

“First my Dad, then Wells, then Finn, then Lexa left me, everyone dies or leaves and now these are wrecked and I’ll hurt you and then there won’t be anyone left.” Her voice was barely a whisper to be heard above the slow in and out of the water coming into the house. Bellamy hopped off the bed with as little splash as he could manage and stood behind her.   
  
“Clarke, you don’t ruin anyone,” he said over her shoulder. He wanted to hold her but he wasn’t sure it would help. Bellamy inched a little closer to her, she sniffed and leaned back into his chest. It gave him enough courage to put his arms around her. “I was pretty ruined and broken to start with and it’s just gotten worse, so I don’t think you could do anymore damage,” he admitted. He felt Clarke shake her head.   
  
“Of all the things I’ve had to do, that we’ve done,” she started but she never finished. He waited for her to continue, holding her against his chest, while she looked at the photos now black and smudged, as they stood in the water.   
  
“I saved some, last night,” he said finally having an aha moment. “They’re in my bag.”   
  
He felt her sharp intake of breath and she turned in his arms to face him and pushed against him forcefully. Bellamy almost fell backwards.   
  
“You have some?! In your bag? Why didn’t you just say that?” He ran a hand through his hair and made a face.   
  
“I just woke up! This room is filling up with water. Yesterday I still felt like dying,” he argued. “I forgot something I did last night, can you cut me some slack?” She huffed but he could tell her reaction was more about her embarrassment at her vulnerable moment more than anything.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said straightening her shoulders. “Can you toss me my bag so I can put my stuff in it?”

 

They walked the first mile or two in the sand with bare feet so their boots could dry and they didn’t talk much. As the day dragged on though, the sand changed to dirt and grasses and the forest overtook the shore. They had to cut west to get where they needed to go so they went west. Bellamy knew they’d lost a lot of time so he didn’t mention stopping when they normally did. He kept walking and figured if Clarke needed to stop, she’d holler.   
  
“There’s a village over there,” she said from her spot ahead of him, her chin pointing ahead. “We should avoid it, just in case.”

He nodded in agreement, at this point anything could slow them down, even friendly people. So they went up and around, flanking the small gathering of buildings, staying out of sight, until that is, Bellamy slipped. Clarke reached for his arms but he was sliding down the hill before she could grab him. When he stopped skidding it was in the middle of three small children and one very pregnant woman who glared at him. He lifted a hand in a wave and tried to smile but two of the kids had already run screaming words that were obviously setting off alarms.

Clarke came up behind him, hands up in front of her, trying to set the woman at ease. Clarke spoke in her limited grounder language and the woman just shook her head. She spoke quickly, Bellamy glanced at Clarke but by the look she gave him, they were out of their element.   
  
“Does anyone speak English?” Bellamy offered still on the ground, not that he couldn’t get up, but he didn’t want to risk escalating the situation just yet. He was safe and more importantly non threatening on the forest floor so he was going to stay there. The woman started speaking in another language, he could tell it wasn’t trigedasleng. She sounded annoyed, which was better than terrified or angry.

“Que en la puta mierda? De donde has salido? Eres un lio! Mierda, estas tratando de asustar este bebe de mi vientre?” *

Spanish, she was speaking Spanish. So nope, seemed like no one spoke English.

After a few minutes of hand gestures and Clarke’s limited language skills, she looked down at him. “You gonna hang out down there all day? Are you hurt or…?”

He shrugged. And she offered him a hand. “So graceful,” she whispered as he stood up. “Next time let’s actually avoid, huh?” Bellamy gave her an irritated look. “Yeah, yeah, I know you didn’t do it on purpose,” she continued reading his face.

The pregnant woman and the child still with her, a kid of maybe three, walked them into the village center where a very old man was waiting for them. 

“Don’t speak the kids’ shitty slang and don’t speak español,” the man said, his voice rough and deep. He was short and looked up to even speak to Clarke. “I haven’t spoken fucking English to anyone but myself in about 40 years so this gonna be horrible.”   
  
The man was irritated but didn’t seem aggressive or angry. Bellamy wondered if maybe they’d interrupted his meal or nap.

“The kids’ slang?” Clarke asked with a tilt of her head and the man smiled, browning teeth but they were all there.

“Trigedasleng. I was born 10 years after the bombs. By the time their slang started to really take root, I was too old to give a flying rat’s ass.”

Bellamy smiled now and he saw Clarke bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“I’m Bellamy and this is Clarke.” He put his hand out to shake and the man’s weathered hand enveloped his.

“Not from the Cooladekru, yeah?” Bellamy shook his head and looked to Clarke, they’d never heard of that clan. “I’m Otto. You’re welcome to stay and eat with us. You can even stay over night if you care to. It’s going to rain again tonight and I don’t think you want to sleep outside. Lottie was fixing me,” he paused and put a finger to his lips, squinted his eyes, and then pulled his hand away and snapped. “Deep fried boar’s meat! Forgot the word in English but I got it! My head isn’t letting me down.” He laughed, proud of himself and turned. Bellamy saw he wasn’t as short as he seemed, but instead he had a hump on his lower back.

“Guess we’re staying for dinner,” Clarke said before following the man.

Otto’s house was a large room, a bed in the back half of the room, some curtains separating that area from the front where an old arm chair, a table with mismatched stools, and something that looked like a shrine of antlers above a fireplace that was blazing. The floor was covered in animal skins so they followed the Otto’s example and took off their boots at the door.

He gestured for them to sit down. Bellamy sat but his head continued to swivel to see all the bits of this man’s home. Besides Lincoln’s cave, he’d never been in the home of a grounder and this man lived very differently than Lincoln had. 

“Are those car license plates?” Clarke asked, nudging Bellamy with her shoulder and pointing to the roof. Otto grunted in affirmation while Bellamy examined each state’s metal rectangle.

“There’s a real roof above that, but I spend a lot of time on my back and I enjoy looking at them,” Otto said as he came to join them at the table.

“Are you sick a lot?” Clarke asked. Bellamy pulled his eyes from the ceiling so he could see the man’s response. He chuckled and nodded.   
  
“My back was born this odd way. God so loved us so he destroyed our earth and let us fucking rot,” he said. Bellamy agreed with the sentiment.

“But you’ve lived a long time, what, 87 years?” Clarke asked her interest genuine. “I don’t think I’ve seen a grounder so old.”

“So you are like the little ones were talking about then, you’re Sky People.” It wasn’t a question. “Did you fall a month ago? In the stars that fell south of here?”

Bellamy shook his head. “No, we came first, they sent us down to see if it was inhabitable. We didn’t even know if we could breathe down here and really didn’t know there were people still.”   
  
“You are either fucking important or very expendable,” Otto remarked.

Bellamy snorted and Clarke scoffed. He considered saying that Clarke was important and he was expendable, but didn’t want to give away her actual worth. Bellamy already felt comfortable with Otto but he wasn’t sure who was listening and his gut had been wrong before.   
  
“Do you know where the site is? Where the,” Clarke paused, “the stars fell? Did anyone survive?”

“This one’s a doctor, huh?” Otto turned to him and Bellamy gave him a smile. “They always have so many questions.” Bellamy glanced at Clarke and saw her blush of embarrassment. He reached a hand discreetly out to the small of her back to ease the sting of the joke. She seemed to appreciate the grounding touch.   
  
“We can answer any questions _you_ have,” she offered. 

“Tomorrow,” Otto said as a woman placed food in front of them. “Lottie’s fried boar is the best meal you’ll have all season so don’t waste time on talking, eat up.”

Bellamy’s mouth watered at the smell of the food in front of him. Yesterday the thought of any food made his stomach churn so he was happy for the shift in his body. “This looks amazing but we really can’t stay too long tomorrow, we have to get going.”   
  
“I’m old, I get up when the fucking sun comes up, I’m sharing my god damn food and you’ll sleep here tonight, I’ll stay with my daughter,” he said with a gesture to Lottie and no malice despite his cursing. “Spare me an hour before you go and that will be enough.”

They agreed and enjoyed their meal in near silence except for Clarke and Bellamy both complimenting Lottie’s boar. It was definitely the best food he’d had probably ever. 

“Are you the leader of this village?” Clarke asked as Otto finished his food. Bellamy figured she was unable to hold in any more questions. Otto laughed.   
  
“A woman named Ariel is, she’s off with a hunting party, won’t be back for a day or two. I’m just the old man. They think I’m some kind of gift from God because I’ve survived all these years. But I know better, I’m just too stubborn to die.”  

He gave them a salute before he stood with the help of Lottie. Bellamy and Clarke both stood as he made his way out.   
  
“Thank you for letting us stay,” Bellamy said. Otto smiled.   
  
“You might not like me when I wake you at dawn, probably be calling me a bastard then! But you’re welcome,” he threw over his shoulder on his way out the door then turning back to his daughter to exchange some words in Spanish.

“Your clumsiness got us good food and a comfy bed tonight,” Clarke said holding up her hand for a high five after the door closed. Bellamy obliged her with a smack of his hand on hers and then continued to examine the walls of the house. They were covered in all kinds of decorations, pressed flowers, old bits of electronics, pages from books even.   
  
Clarke, though, was checking out the bed. Like the beach house, Otto had a real mattress. Probably because of his back, Bellamy imagined they went looking for this.

“Bet you this is the nicest bed in the village. They must think he’s immortal so they’ll make him comfortable,” Clarke said before tilting her head as if to remember something. “Where are the photos?”

“Oh, right.” Bellamy reached for his bag and pulled out three Polaroids. Two of the photos were the two of them together, one where she was smiling huge and he was glancing at her while smiling more subdued, the other they were both exaggeratedly happy. The third photo was of Clarke, the first one he took of her where she was a little shy and her cheeks had a twinge of pink in them. He wouldn’t have told her. These were supposed to be for him. That’s why he hid them away last night. Bellamy knew she’d likely say something about the ones he’d chosen to keep but she was so panicked this morning, when he remembered he had them he couldn’t keep the information from escaping. And despite being a little embarrassed, she did seem to collect herself once she knew that there were a few surviving pictures.

He cautiously handed them to her on the bed and went back to looking at the walls to minimize the impact of what he’d just let go. Clarke didn’t say anything. She just looked at the photos as a sad smile formed on her face. Finally she took one photo and handed him back the other two.

“I’m going to bed,” she said quickly. “Dawn comes early.”

Bellamy sighed, he considered prodding Clarke to talk about whatever the photos meant or even baiting her into flirting or mentioning the fact he’d kept the photos, especially the one of just her, but he didn’t really want to open up to her about any of that so how could he ask her to do it? Instead he perused the small bookshelf and let Clarke fall asleep without him. But soon she was tossing and turning so he took that as his cue to lie down next to her, offer his arm, and they both slept easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spanish translation: “What the ever loving fuck?! Where did you even come from, you are a mess? Shit, are you trying to scare this baby out of me?"
> 
>  
> 
> Spanish translation by Marcy (kategecko.tumblr.com)


	9. Day 8

Day Eight

 

 

The air was chilly as Clarke exited Otto’s home. Bellamy was grouching behind her about it being too early.   
  
“Where’s my jacket?” Clarke turned and threw it at him, but he didn’t catch it. It just hit him in the chest and fell but he muttered his thanks anyway. The sun was coming up and Otto was making his way to them, just as promised. He walked them to the ridge that headed out of the community.

“So you came from here, right? The Sky people aren’t aliens, yeah?” Clarke tried not to laugh. She bit the inside of her cheek and snorted a little, she didn’t want to offend the man who had been so generous.

“We came from Earth. Well, our ancestors did,” Clarke explained. She told Otto the story of the 12 space stations, Bellamy chimed in here or there on parts that she left out, even though she left them out for time constraints.  
  
“What did you eat in space?” was the next question and Clarke loved the childlike curiosity that the old man’s questions presented. A lengthy conversation about hydroponics labs followed and Clarke thanked her father mentally for talking about his work so much. Jake Griffin helped maintain a lot of the structural framework of those labs and Clarke felt a twinge of longing. What would he think of her explaining this to a man who lived on the ground? Who survived so long here?

Otto interjected questions here or there to clarify, but overall it was just Clarke and Bellamy talking about life on the Ark. The sun was lifting higher into the sky and she knew they needed to get going but she was enjoying herself. Otto stood from the rock he’d been resting on and Bellamy quickly tried to help him up.

“One more before you go,” Otto said in his rough voice. “Where the fuck did your piss and shit go in space?” 

Bellamy snorted and Clarke smiled. “Well, there’s a pretty sophisticated waste removal system, it’s moved through pipes and then eventually when the tank is full it’s uh, it was released into space,” she said as succinctly as possible. 

Otto pursed his lips and shook his head. “Poor stars are covered with your shit.”

“I’d never thought of it that way but now I feel bad about it,” Bellamy said, a playful look on his face.

“Go safely,” Otto said shaking both of their hands. “If you come back this way, stop, I’m sure I’ll think of more questions about the stars and the Sky People.”

Clarke and Bellamy nodded and watched for a few moments as Otto made his way slowly down the ridge back to his home.

“And don’t get tangled up with the Cooladekru, they’re no good!” he threw over his shoulder.   
  
Clarke wondered who they were and why they needed to avoid them, but there was no time to ask now.

“Let’s get moving,” Clarke suggested. 

“I like that guy,” Bellamy said as they started to walk. “I want to be an old man like that.”

She smiled to herself, giving him a once over and imagining him 65 years from now. “I have no doubt you’ll be like him, well, he smiled more than you usually do,” she teased.

“Hey, I smile!” he replied with a pout.   
  
“I’ve seen you smile more in the last 10 days than in the entire time we’ve been on the ground, smiling isn’t really your thing,” she said.

“It’s been a shitty time on the ground until recently. You didn’t smile much yourself,” he said. “I mean I could say the exact same thing about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is that how today’s walk is gonna be, huh?” she said bumping into his shoulder with her own, feeling flirtatious.   
  
“Yeah,” he responded with a smirk. “It’s going to be a good day because we started off by explaining how we’ve been polluting space with our bodily fluids for 97 years. Every day should start with a conversation like that.”   
  
“You’re disgusting,” she said but she was laughing.

 

By mid afternoon they could finally see the Ark section they were looking for. It was huge, a part of mecha station, and it was sticking out of the side of a hill making it easy to spot from a mile away. But once they were closer, they had to slow down.   
  
There were people crawling all over it. Literally. Men with ropes and harnesses were on top of the section of metal and glass to scavenge parts. The strange thing though was that the men were all dressed in white.

Clarke and Bellamy stopped back far enough to not be seen, but a place on the hill where they could watch what was going on.

“Surely they’ll leave when night falls?” Clarke said while handing Bellamy the binoculars so he could take another look.   
  
“I hope so. I don’t know who they are and we don’t want any trouble, so I guess we lay low and hope they leave.” They were on their stomachs behind some tall brown grass, holding themselves up with their elbows to look down at the wreckage. “If we plan on moving at night though, why don’t you try to nap, and I’ll keep watch?”

She turned to object but when she turned her head, she realized how close they were, she could feel his breath on her cheeks as he looked across the way, and it startled him, too. Clarke saw him swallow and she tried not to look at his lips, but his eyes seemed too intense. The air around them was charged and Clarke felt her stomach flop.

But as quickly as the moment appeared, it diffused. A loud crash and she was suddenly watching a large metal plate from the wreckage fall to the ground, men all around were scrambling to lift it together and move it off.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll just rest for a little bit,” Clarke said, pulling her pack around to use as a makeshift pillow. Bellamy gave her a look she didn’t understand, maybe disappointment? But then she saw him nod before she closed her eyes. When she woke up, it was dark and Bellamy’s hand was gently drifting it’s way up and down her back. “How long was I out?” she asked groggy. Bellamy laughed to himself.

“It’s almost midnight, I think from the moon,” he said, stopping the motion on her back, Clarke felt the loss of the contact but pushed the thought away, they had things to do and she didn’t have time to think about how comforting his touch was. He gestured with his chin down to the site. “There’s still three of them, but they’re just guarding it now. I say we hide the packs and go in light, some rope, a gun each, and a flashlight. Sneak around the back, get in through an intake and find the part. Should be in the tail section. Once we get inside, I’ll know where we need to go, I’ve been in this area a lot, well, more than you I suppose.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve never seen parts of mecha. I know,” she said smartly. “Let’s get to it, I don’t want to be here more than we have to. Those dudes are creeping me out.”

Bellamy’s plan was almost perfect. They got in easily, they were able to swiftly move to the shop where the part should be, even though this part of the station had landed upside down. Locating the part was quick. But that’s when things went bad. And Clarke didn’t know what happened after that because as Bellamy would later tell her, “you aren’t actually invincible and running at a guy three times your size will get you knocked out.”  


	10. Day 9

Day Nine

 

Bellamy dodged a punch by ducking down and landed his own in the man’s kidney. He knew that trying to shoot any of these goons while in the Ark would be a disaster. A missed shot meant a ricocheting bullet and that could be deadly. Clarke had been holding her own and he could admit with grace that he was impressed with her fighting skills. But he didn’t want to contemplate how she’d gained those skills. He didn’t have time anyway, he thought as his opponent landed a solid hit on his jaw. He reeled for half a second but then he saw Clarke out of his periphery. She had dispensed of her guy and was now running at his. She was so small and he wanted her to stop but she was too fast. She tried to body slam the guy, probably just an attempt to throw him off balance but he was too big and he pushed her off easily, her head hit the floor with a thud.

At that, Bellamy gave up the fight and reached around for where his gun was hidden in his pants and pointed it at the men in white. “Do you want to know how good of a shot I am or are you going to walk out in front of me and let us go?” His voice was steady despite being very sure this threat wasn’t going to work.

“The Prophet has to approve you before we can do anything, so you can just shoot us if you think that you’ll be able to fight your way past the apostles outside.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Bellamy muttered under his breath. “Religious nuts.” He heard Clarke moan behind him and it spurned him to shoot both guys still standing in the leg. One shot in the calf, the other guy got a shot in the knee. Bellamy turned and lifted Clarke over his shoulder and started to run as best he could out of the Ark.   
  
The way they’d come in was likely where the white robed back up was, so he took a second to try and remember the hallways of the Ark section right side up and the best way to get out of here. He remembered a large observation deck used for community meetings and took a left at a fork in the hall to reach it. In a stroke of luck the thick glass meant to withstand the cold of space had blown completely out either on atmospheric entry or the crash to the ground so he was able to kick out some jagged edges and hop out all without putting Clarke down. But as he started for the cover of trees he felt the sting of a needle in his arm. And then he felt nothing.

   
  


The smell of charred flesh was nauseating and the sound of painful cries made his head throb.  Obviously, he was in hell. But the bodies had faces that morphed into different people he recognized from his childhood and they moaned and sobbed and reached for him. The faces changed again and now were people from the mountain. Maya and her father clung to each other, with boils and burns all over their skin. Kids strewn across a long table and mothers’ mouths open in agony as they grasped tiny hands now lifeless. Octavia in a puddle of blood unmoving, Clarke was over her, tear tracks on her face as she turned to him. She was pale and he knew she was dead but she spoke and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “I can’t save anyone and you can’t save me and we’re stuck in this circle of hell.” He shook his head furiously.   
  
“None of that is true!” he yelled, his throat felt raw as though he’d been yelling for hours.

“If you’re right, then you can go and I’ll stay here, you go and take care of everyone else. I’ll stay here with the dead.” Her voice was eerie and calm. It didn’t sound like her but he couldn’t remember what her voice was supposed to sound like.

“Clarke, no, I’ll stay here with you, I deserve it more than you,” he whispered, but then she was pushing him with cold hands and he couldn’t grasp her solidly. He was falling and his stomach and head felt the sick and fuzzy way he’d felt a few days ago when he’d eaten the undercooked meat.

Bellamy jolted awake, both relieved to be out of that dream and panicked to see he was in a small room he’d never been in before. He jumped to his feet ignoring the pounding in his head, he tried the door and it wouldn’t budge. Looking around the small room was more like a closet. Long enough for him to lie down in but only in length. In width it was maybe five feet. There was nothing in the room, so he started to kick at the door. The hinges were on the inside, and he cursed thinking if Raven were here she’d have a screwdriver in her pocket. Well, she probably wouldn’t because he recognized that everything he had on him before was gone. No gun, no flashlight in his cargo pocket, they’d even taken his jacket and boots.

He kicked at the door, punched at it, yelled for a while. But nothing. No sound from outside, the door didn’t dent or move until a booming voice ordered him to stand back from the door.   
  
“I’ll tranq you again if I have to, heathen.”  
  
“I’m back, I’m back,” Bellamy yelled, putting his hands up as the door opened. He could get out of the closet like this, figure out where the hell they were being held, find Clarke, and get the fuck out of here. He just had to get out of the closet.

A man with purple bruises on the side of his face entered, a gun pointed at Bellamy, and his white robes had some silver rope hanging off his shoulder.

“Where’s my friend?” Bellamy asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“She’s being prepared. We’re going to take you to be prepared now,” the man answered, his voice more monotone than when he was threatening to knock Bellamy out.

“Jesus Christ,” it slipped out before Bellamy could stop himself. The man tilted his head confused.   
  
“Are you a follower of Jehovah of the stars and bombs?”

“I prefer Greek and Roman gods but I don’t think any of them are real,” Bellamy replied, but he immediately regretted it. He was not going to get anywhere insulting these whack jobs and their beliefs. The man took a step forward, the gun almost touching Bellamy’s chest, and slapped him across the face. He cringed not so much from the slight pain but more out of annoyance.

“I told the Prophet I didn’t think you’d be a good choice, now I know I was wrong.” The man smiled without showing his teeth, it was off putting and Bellamy did his best not to react but all the hairs on his neck stood up just like in his nightmare.

A thousand scenarios ran through his head of what was happening, but it didn’t matter because two more men were crowding the small room and tying his hands behind his back. Another with a strong limp and blood stained pant leg sucker punched him and he fell to his knees.

When Bellamy caught his breath, he was being dragged up by his arms and put on his feet again. The man with the silver rope on his shoulder scowled at the man with the bloody leg.   
  
“It’s not like that’s going to ruin him,” he argued. “He shot me, he can’t just be prepared without me getting my due.”  
  
“Revenge isn’t a godly trait, Jared.” The man spoke as though this was a constant discussion.

“Sir Peter,” Jared said with a bowed head. He nudged Bellamy out the door with a jab to his back and Bellamy had what he wanted, he was out of the make shift cell.

The hallway was long and they passed door after door, it was morning now, he could see the light coming in from spots in the ceiling that had been patched differently than the original roof. But beyond the dank walls and a smell like sulfur, Bellamy worried that it all looked the same. He tried to focus more on the look of each door, trying to memorize it for later when he needed to get out. All of the doors though, seemed to lead to more internal rooms.

A reddish light flickered on above them as they walked and Bellamy’s heart nearly stopped. An exit sign. He looked around the frame of the door and was sure the faint light of day seeped in from the bottom.

“What’s that even say?” Jared asked one of the other men surrounding Bellamy. The others, even Sir Peter, shrugged.

“It goes off and on all day, like the Lord of stars and bombs wants to remind us of his love.” Bellamy rolled his eyes and made a mental note to himself. Never get kidnapped by religious people again.

Finally they reached the end of the long hallway and turned to the left, a huge room with cracked tile and long tables with benches on each side lined the room. A man in purple robes was on a stage set in the back of the room. There was a table there, except it looked more like an alter. Bellamy’s stomach lurched. There were streaks of something brown on the front of the table.

“Where’s my friend?” Bellamy asked again to the man in purple who walked down to meet them.   
  
“She’s being prepared,” he said dismissively with a wave of his hand. “I’m more interested in you. Two guns with real bullets, I thought we prepared all the people from the fallen star but it’s been weeks and you two just materialized there.”

“We walked here,” Bellamy said hoping the truth would get him a little further in this discussion. “We didn’t come down on that wreckage. No god sent us either. But the way you’re talking, I assume you sacrificed anyone who survived the crash to your god.” His voice was solid and he took care to keep his face passive.

The man didn’t seem ruffled by Bellamy’s commentary about their religious practices.

“We don’t sacrifice to him. We prepare vessels.”   
  
Bellamy couldn’t stop the deep sigh from escaping his lips. He’d only said maybe 20 words to these people and they just fed him back nonsense.

“Well, I hope to be prepped we don’t have to be virgins or pure or anything because neither my friend or I are any of those things.”

“I have a feeling you’re exactly what we need,” said the man coming close to Bellamy. He stretched a finger out to run across Bellamy’s jaw. He recoiled at the touch and the man chuckled, his breath was horrible. “Take him away.”

Sir Peter grabbed his arm and pushed him towards a door on the opposite side of the room. It was a large kitchen, dingy steel counters and a couple of ovens in the back. A large shelf held fruits and vegetables. Bellamy’s stomach growled at the thought.   
  
“You’ll eat later,” one of the henchmen pushing him along said. Bellamy shook his head.

“I’d rather not.” He had a hunch that all these lunatics were made slightly more deranged by something in the food or water supply.

After walking through the kitchen they hit another hall and then into a large bathroom. He was untied momentarily while they pulled his clothes off and shoved him into a room with several showerheads. He was startled when water came streaming out of all of them, it was cold but it worked. They tossed him a bar of soap from the door. 

“You smell terrible, like an animal,” Jared mocked. “Clean you up and take you to slaughter like one.”

Bellamy clenched his fists, his whole body contracted with the cold water over him and his anger coursing through him. It was happening, again. With slightly kinder captors and a biblical stance, but hell if he’d let this crush him. He steeled himself for a fight, he just needed the right opportunity.

After the shower, they tried to get him to eat. He refused over and over again, even spitting in their faces, so Jared (who it seemed really didn’t want to forgive and forget about that time a few hours ago when Bellamy grazed his leg with a bullet, how very unchristian of him) gave Bellamy another punch in the gut after he hauled him up out of the chair. He collapsed in on himself, unable to breathe from the force of it, and they just shoved him back into the chair again. Taking the food away and bringing in a woman dressed in the standard white robes but with a blue set of ropes on her shoulder. She held up a book and started to read. The book was the bible and Bellamy would rather have another hit than listen to monotonous bible verses from the Book of Revelation.   
  
He didn’t care for metaphoric death and destruction with flowery language, he’d been living real death and destruction for a good long while. Although it was useful to know some of these idiots could read. Or maybe like the old feudal systems of Europe, the people in charge made a point of denying education to the bottom tiers of groupies. Made it easier to control them, he supposed.

As the woman droned on, Bellamy tried to keep his mind going through the hallways. He retraced his steps and remembered the exit sign. His mind would float to where Clarke might be, but quickly he pushed it away because it did him no good. He’d find her or she’d find him. If this was what “being prepared” meant then she was surely in a room similar, bored to tears as he was, probably doing the same. She told him how she’d refused to eat the food at Mount Weather and he felt a surge of fondness for her. Bellamy knew she would refuse the food here as well, though he grew dark thinking of his punishment for that choice. But she could hold her own, and again he pushed the idea of her aside, going over the hallways again in his head.

The bible reading went on for hours. By the time they dragged him back to his closet, it was dark. But it gave him another chance to walk the halls and see the exit sign. He paced the floor, he didn’t want to sleep, his dreams would be worse than before he assumed, but hunger and exhaustion took over and he ended up on the floor. 


	11. Day 10

Day Ten

 

 

 

Clarke was wired. The day’s events had terrified her, bored her, and finally just frustrated her. Hours of being read the Christian holy writing had left her feeling uncomfortable and no one had answered any of her questions. They’d only given her instructions or read the dull words of religious text. The women who were at her side when she regained consciousness had only sweetly said, “We’re here to prepare you,” and never answered where Bellamy was, for all she knew they’d killed him. She didn’t think they had, she remembered vaguely a fight happening, but she didn’t want to, couldn’t believe that he’d been killed in it.

So when they brought her to a door in the middle of the night and shoved her through it, she was relieved to see Bellamy on the floor of the dark room. He was sleeping, fitfully, but sleeping, when she kneeled down next to him. Despite the lack of light in the room she could see he had a bruise on his jaw and a few on his arms.

“Bellamy,” she said gently, hoping to not startle him. But that didn’t work. He started to shake and curled in on himself, pulling his legs up to his chest and holding them. He was sweating and Clarke felt his forehead for a non-existent fever. He muttered something she couldn’t understand and then his eyes opened wide and she saw his terror. She could have sworn she felt her stomach in her feet. “Bellamy,” she said again, this time concern clear in her voice.

He grabbed her hand and pulled it to his chest. “I won’t leave you, don’t leave me,” he said clearly before something snapped and he shook his head. Bellamy closed his eyes again and took a few ragged breaths, seeming to gather himself. He still had her hand against his chest tightly and Clarke bit the inside of her cheek and didn’t dare try to swallow past the lump in her throat. She knew the head rush of coming back to reality and trying to push the darkness away.

“Clarke,” he asked cautiously, letting go of her hand and sitting up. She nodded. “Are you okay? What, what happened to you? I’ve been asking about you all day and they just kept giving some religious crazy talk about preparation.” 

He shamelessly reached for her face, his fingers gently checking her skin, his eyes moving over her body, to verify her authenticity or her wellbeing she wasn’t really sure which but she allowed him the act no matter the reason.

“I’m fine, they didn’t answer any of my questions either but they didn’t hurt me, I mean beyond the part where I’ve got this massive lump on the back of my head.” His hands trailed immediately into her hair and she gulped at the comfort and unexpected lust the simple action inspired. Clarke reached for his hands and pulled them in front of her, putting them down on her thighs, in his anxiety she hoped the constant connection would help put him at ease. Whatever happened to him today must have been different than it was for her.  Moving her hands to examine the bruise on his face, she frowned.   
  
“That was from before, when we were in the Ark,” he explained, watching her face. “I almost had us out but they hit me with a tranquilizer.”

“Did you eat anything?” He shook his head even before she finished the question. “Good, but the dream you were having when I came in here, it was bad, I didn’t know, does that happen,” she stopped and he looked away. “It’s not something you ate or just being here, that happens to you, too?”

He wouldn’t look at her. Instead scooted his body away from her, to sit leaning against the back wall. “Just here,” he told her but she knew he was lying.

“What happened to you today?” she asked deciding the nightmare discussion wasn’t worth it.

“Hopefully the same thing that happened to you, I’m glad yours involved less punching,” Bellamy answered, coming back to himself a little. “I’ve memorized the halls between here and the kitchen. What did you see?”   
  
“Just halls and a shower room. Creepy and weird people but my hair is clean so I’m trying to keep a positive outlook,” she joked but he looked steely. “What?" 

“I’m pretty sure they’re going to sacrifice us on a disgusting looking alter in the main room.” Clarke blew out a breath causing the hair in her face to move. The thought had occurred to her, she didn’t like being right.

“Let’s not stick around for that,” she deadpanned and Bellamy’s entire body seemed to stiffen.   
  
“We can’t get out of here, we have to wait until they come get us in the morning. I bruised my knuckles trying to knock down the door.” Clarke closed the distance to where he was and took his hands to examine them. He let her for a minute then pulled away. She saw the dark circles under his eyes and realized she’d had a nap then hours of being unconscious and he likely hadn’t slept well at all while here if the way she found him was any indication.

“There’s still hours until morning, you should try to sleep.” He bristled at the suggestion. “I’ll keep watch, I’m fine, but you need to rest, you’ll be better ready to fight us out of here if you’re not exhausted.” He gave her a dour look and she remembered what he said when he hadn’t come out of the nightmare. For days now she’d gotten used to sleeping with him to hold onto, and maybe he needed it as much as she did. She sighed before leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his chest. Clarke put her ear over his heart and listened to his heart beat far faster than it should, his body was rigid and tense, but he soon moved his arms around to hold her. He rested his chin on her head and she whispered into him, “You just need something to hold onto.”

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for his breathing to steady and his heart rate to come down and then she followed him into sleep sometime after that.

 

 

 

 

When the light from the door opening woke her, she felt Bellamy tighten his grip on her. She opened her eyes and saw three men, all in white robes, one with a blood stained leg.    
  
“Up and at ‘em, love birds,” the man with the bloodied leg said with a sneer. It made Clarke’s cheeks flush and her eyes narrow. She stood up and reached up to slap him, but Bellamy caught her arm.   
  
“I already shot the guy, and he’s a big fan of a punching people for fun, it’s not worth it,” he told her calmly while the man glowered at Bellamy. “Let’s get this show on the road, Jared. How’s the limp today?”

Jared stepped forward and tried to punch Clarke this time, but she dodged him giving Bellamy a chance to grab him by the arm, pull him into the room, and slam him against the wall. Clarke went toward the other two men, choosing to run past them instead of engaging them at all. Bellamy shouted at her, bringing both men’s attention back to him. They charged at him and he gave a punch to one while swiftly moving his body out of the way of the other. He was out of the room and Clarke stood next to him to grab the doorknob and pull it closed.   
  
“Thanks for leaving me all the hard work,” he said with a cocky smile.

“Seemed like you wanted to take that guy out on your own so I was really just being polite,” Clarke said tilting her head down the hall. “What are the chances that exit sign is an actual exit? I only saw it in the dark.”   
  
“It goes outside, I saw as I passed it yesterday.” Bellamy started down the hall. “Any chance you figured out where they took our shoes and everything we had on us when we came in?” Clarke thought back to the day before and the things she saw immediately after waking up.   
  
“Yes!” she said excitedly as they ran. “One of the women said they put all the old things in the barn, we just have to figure out where the fuck the barn is.”   
  
“Hopefully not far from the exit,” Bellamy shouted back to her.

They made it to the exit door, but when they opened it an alarm sounded. It was like there wasn’t enough power so it was a rundown sound, like a low growl.

Once outside Clarke felt the sharp sting of gravel on her bare feet and the chill of the air. They needed to find their shoes, coats, and Raven’s part, the whole reason for the trip, quickly.

“That’s got to be the barn,” Bellamy said, he slowed down and was pointing to a large wooden structure across the field in front of them. They headed for it and carefully entered, a woman stood up from a stool, Clarke ran to her, pushing her back down on the stool, and covering her mouth.   
  
“Don’t say anything and I won’t hurt you,” she said. The woman gulped and tears formed in her eyes. Clarke saw the pleading in her face and had to look away. “Did you find the stuff?”

Bellamy was making a racket towards the back, soon there were several horses running through the building. He came jogging towards her, arms full. “I got the stuff, guess they didn’t think the part was worth anything because it was with our other stuff. I figured setting the horses loose would create enough of a distraction. We’ll let them out on our way.” He quickly slipped into his jacket, his boots already on his feet. He turned to the woman. “She’s gonna let you go and I’m going to hold you right here,” he said sternly. “Don’t scream.”

The woman nodded her head like she understood and Clarke slowly pulled her hand away. Bellamy put a hand on her shoulder to keep her down after tossing Clarke her jacket and boots. True to her word, she stayed quiet and Clarke was grateful. She didn’t want to hurt her.   
  
Clarke reached for a horse as it trotted by. “What are you doing?” Bellamy asked confused.

“This is going to be a much faster way to get out of here, especially if we’ve set the others horses out to run,” she said, hoisting herself onto the animal. His brows knit and he gave her a look.   
  
“I’ve never ridden one,” Bellamy said flustered. “Our getaway will be significantly slower if I fall off.” She sighed and slowed a passing horse with her hand.   
  
“Don’t fall off then, let’s go.” It took him a couple of tries but he made it on the horse, he held onto the animal’s neck bent over and awkward looking. Clarke grabbed the reins of his horse, and looked back to the woman. “If you open the door, and give the horses a good smack, you can run out screaming. They’ll know we held you so you won’t get in trouble, okay?” She nodded and Clarke hoped it was true, she hoped this woman wouldn’t be mistreated for this. As the doors opened the horses pushed against each other to escape and Clarke and Bellamy headed towards the hill in the distance where the Ark wreckage was.

After a few minutes, Bellamy got the hang of it and she didn’t have to keep checking on him next to her. The horses under them seemed happy to gallop off. People hadn’t yet made it outside to chase them so Clarke felt comfortable stopping at the ridge where they’d stashed their packs before. She hopped down and tossed Bellamy his before putting hers on her back. Then off they went, the horses continuing at a good pace.

They rode for a few hours, both of them breathing easier assuming they’d lost the fundamentalists in white a while ago. But nearing Otto’s village, they heard riders in the distance.   
  
“Let’s keep going,” Clarke suggested, but the horses were slowing and Bellamy didn’t have the ability to nudge his to go any faster.

“I hate to do it, but let’s stop, I think those might have been the Cooladekru that Otto warned us about, maybe they’ll help us, at least give us some place to hide,” Bellamy said but she could tell he was worried about his plan causing collateral damage.   
  
She nodded and turned her horse towards the village.

A woman met them at the community’s edge, she had the traditional shoulder pads of a clan leader and Clarke sat a little straighter to show her authority. Well, the authority she used to have.

“No queremos a los Cooladekru aqui! Si te estan siguiendo, sigue adelante,” the woman spoke in Spanish, then said something in Trigedasleng.**

“Can we speak to Otto, he told us to come back through,” Clarke spoke with purpose. The woman, she assumed was Ariel, stood stoic. She turned to a man next to her and nodded.

Otto came hobbling into sight as fast as his old legs would carry him, Lottie behind him, and Clarke heard Bellamy sigh with relief next to her. He spoke to Ariel in Spanish, they argued for a moment, Clarke looked to Bellamy nervously but his face was scrunched up as if he might be able to understand the language they were speaking.

“Get off the fucking horses,” Otto yelled at them, the urgency of his argument and the situation saturating his tone. Both of them quickly dismounted and a young boy came to tend the horses. “Don’t worry about them, Santiago will hide them far away. You two come on.”

“Where are we going?” Clarke asked and Bellamy shook his head.   
  
“Thank you for doing this, we don’t want anyone to get hurt but they were going to kill us,” Bellamy explained as they followed Otto to a secluded section of the village. No grass or trees were growing in front of them and the further they went in this direction, the worse it smelled.

“I told you to avoid Cooladekru,” Otto said matter-of-factly. He walked down a hill into a foul smelling ditch. Clarke covered her nose with her arm, her eyes starting to water. She saw Bellamy pull his shirt collar up to cover his nose and mouth. Otto though, made no indication he was bothered by the smell.

“This is the shit box.” The old man held his arm out to a door nestled in the side of the hill. Clarke pressed her lips together to avoid saying anything rude. It was surely the best place to hide them but she was not looking forward to the smell getting worse. “If you stay at the very front, you won’t get shit on you, but I’ve got to close the door to make it safe.”

Bellamy took Clarke’s hand and all but dragged her in. “Thanks, Otto. Please, be safe, if they threaten any lives, just come get us, we don’t want your people to…” He said and Clarke nodded.   
  
“We don’t want anyone to be hurt because of us,” she managed to get out.   
  
“You two just keep quiet,” Otto said before shutting the door, plunging them into darkness. It took a minute before Clarke’s eyes adjusted, but she heard and felt Bellamy digging through his bag. A light appeared and she saw Bellamy found the flashlight. He shined it behind them and then immediately twisted to aim it at the door.   
  
“We don’t want to see what’s back there,” he said disgusted. “Guess we know where _their_ piss goes now.”   
  
“Can’t believe he accused us of polluting space when this thing exists,” Clarke said. She covered her mouth again as a wave of nausea struck her. She tried to keep quiet but she didn’t know how long they’d be stuck in here and the anxiety was starting to get to her. She shut her eyes tight and tried to keep breathing through her nose but the dense, hot air of the box was too much to block out. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Don’t puke,” he said taking a step away from her. She looked at him incredulous.

“Says the man I watched hurl his guts out not that long ago.”

“Because  _you_ gave me food poisoning!” he snapped. 

“You’re the one who wanted to stop here. I think riding past would have been better,” she shot back.

“I don’t want these people in danger anymore than you do but the horses couldn’t keep that pace forever and we barely know this area, they have the advantage and I know you don’t care about getting home but I need to.”

“That was a low blow,” she said with a tilt of her head. He raised an eyebrow daring her to disagree. Clarke took a deep breath to calm herself but the horrible fumes burned her sinuses.

“I’d rather be in Mount Weather right now,” she said rubbing her temples.   
  
“Because you never saw the inside of one of their cages,” he muttered under his breath but Clarke instantly looked at him.

“What?” she croaked, concern and horror sending sharp pains in her stomach.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, refusing to look at her.   
  
“How did you get in, Bellamy?” she pushed using her most commanding voice. That was the right thing to say because instead of shrinking he puffed up to challenge her, filling the small space.

“I got in just like every grounder in a cage. No clean decontamination room for me, I was stripped and scrubbed and chained.” His voice was low and she could feel the anger coming off him in waves. She covered her mouth and hoped that any tears that fell might be explained away from the vile smell of their current location.

He clearly didn’t buy it though, he deflated, his eyes closed, he shook his head, and he turned away from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she tried to reach for his arm, but he pulled away.

“Not something I want to share with the class,” he ground out. “And you’re one to talk about discussing the hard things that happened. You left.”

“You’re mad at me for leaving?”

“No,” he said finally looking at her and she knew he wasn’t lying for her benefit. “That’s the stupid part.”

Before she could ask anything else, the door opened. She took three steps out, bent over and emptied her stomach. 

“That’s a normal reaction to the shit box,” Otto said with a bit of a laugh.   
  
“She’ll be fine,” Bellamy said coolly as he walked away.

Clarke pulled herself together, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her skin was clammy and she felt a little dizzy, but she took a deep breath.

“You should stay here tonight,” Otto said, a soft smile on his face.   
  
Clarke shook her head. “I don’t want them coming back and it’s early in the day, we need to get home,” she said. “But we can’t thank you enough. I wish I had something to give you.”

“Come back and visit me, I want to hear more about the stars, Clarke,” the old man said as he took her arm. “Let’s go find Santiago and the horses. I’m sure that’s where Bellamy headed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Spanish Translation: “We don’t want the Cooladekru here, if they’re following you, keep going.”
> 
> Spanish translation by Marcy (kategecko.tumblr.com)


	12. Day 11

Day Eleven

 

It was very early in the morning, at least four hours before the sun rose, and Bellamy was restless. He was upset with himself for blurting out the very thing he never wanted Clarke to take on. He knew that as they approached home at the breakneck pace on horseback that she was hours closer to leaving him again. And he knew that she’d spend all her time withering away, beating herself up for her perceived sins. It might be what she wanted but he knew it wasn’t helping her.

Across the fire Bellamy watched her shiver in her sleep. Clarke had slept like that for a few hours. He knew that lying down with her would probably help, but he didn’t want to. Since his accidental confession earlier in the day, Bellamy kept his distance. His horse following hers, the silence that had been so easy before was now thick with discontent.

“Who got you out of the cage?” Clarke’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was sitting up now, looking at him.

“I’d say it doesn’t matter, but it does,” he said gruffly. She held his gaze and he finally gave in. “Maya. I was,” he paused, he could tell the story differently to save her, but she was going to leave him anyway in a few days, it didn’t matter. “She cut me down from being bled.” Clarke was trying to keep her face neutral but he saw her wince.

“She knew who I was because of you. She cut me down and then hid me.”  Clarke knew the rest of the story from there. But if she was asking questions, so was he. “You let Tondc burn,” he said, his voice level, not asking a question, just making a statement.

“Evacuating would have tipped them off to you,” she answered. “I shouldn’t have sent you in the first place and you were the only hope to get anyone out. You had to succeed.”

Bellamy heard a hesitation in her words. He just looked at her for a few seconds. “There wasn’t a better choice, Octavia is fine, consider it a wash.” She laughed humorlessly.  

“There was probably a better choice. I just didn’t have time,” Clarke said, her voice breaking. “Do you see why I can’t go home? I don’t know why you’d want me to now. After what you went through because I sent you.”

“Don’t do that.” Bellamy’s temper flared. “Don’t take on my pain and add it to your pile. It’s not yours to take, especially if you’re going to use it as a reason to leave m-” he stopped. “To leave.” 

Clarke looked away. “It’s my fault. _I_ sent you.”

“It was my idea, my plan, I never asked for your permission.” He’d only stayed because she asked. Because she was honest with him, or he thought she was. But he didn’t want to know. It would only hurt either now or when she left him.

“You should sleep,” she told him. “I can’t sleep anyway.”

Bellamy searched her face hoping to see something. Anything. To try and understand how to fix this for her, a clue to how he could help, but he saw nothing there but tired eyes and despair.

 

\---

  
They decided they could make it to the library today, stay there for the night, and make it home tomorrow. But that little meeting first thing in the morning was hours ago and they’d traveled in silence since.

The foliage was dense in front of them and the horses slowed significantly trying to get through it. He could practically hear the animals’ relief when they cleared the patch and in front of him he saw Clarke’s horse launch into a gallop on its own.  With the sudden change of speed, Bellamy saw Clarke try to gain control of the horse when it tripped over some rocks and as if in slow motion, she slid off the side of the animal.

Bellamy tugged on his own horse to stop and dismounted quickly, running to her. “Are you okay?” Clarke looked up at him and slowly started to laugh. It started as a giggle and morphed into a full-blown break down of laughter. He started to laugh himself. “Didn’t you tell me not to fall off? And look at the expert.”   
  
“My ass hurts but oh my god that’s the most fun I’ve had in days,” she said as she caught her breath. He offered her a hand and she took it, lifting herself off the ground.

She looked towards the horses, hers was munching on some grass and his was walking over and they spent a few seconds bumping noses trying to get the better bit of grass. Bellamy looked down at her just as she turned back to him. Clarke’s cheeks were flushed and she smiled at him. He could feel his heart beat faster at her proximity and he tried to ignore it. The soft wind blew a strand of her hair over her lips, he didn’t hesitate to lift his fingers to her hair line and tuck the loose strand behind her ear, his hand tracing down the skin behind her ear, then along her jaw, he saw her swallow, her eyelids fluttered shut before she leaned into his lips. It was soft and chaste and she pulled back before he even had a chance to realize what happened. She looked away, before he heard her say barely audibly, “We should get moving.”

It felt like goodbye. 


	13. Day 12

Day Twelve

 

It was a good thing they’d decided on the library because well after it was dark a thunderclap and a flash of lightening startled her out of her sketching on the floor. Bellamy had gone out a while ago to see if he could move the horses somewhere inside, he didn’t want them bolting with the oncoming storm but he also made the most disgusted face when she suggested that the ceiling in the downstairs library area was tall enough to accommodate the horses.

“They’ll shit on the books!” He looked at her like she was suggesting they kill the horses instead of keep them dry and contained.

“Fine, you figure it out,” she said throwing her hands up and heading upstairs.

Bellamy came in, running his hands through his hair, drops of water slick across his skin. Clarke turned back to her sketchbook trying to calm her senses.

She was leaving. She wasn’t going home with him. She didn’t deserve him, she couldn’t face the people at Camp Jaha, she could not go back with him to meet her mother’s disappointed eyes or the stares of the kids who wanted to know what took her so long, reminding her of all the lives she traded for them. Most of all, she knew that Bellamy needed someone better, someone without a body count, someone who didn’t send him away to die.

“I got them wrangled in a large storage room, there was a loading dock, I think? In the back, it had a door big enough to lead them in through, so I think they’ll be fine there for the night.” He walked to the table where he’d laid out at least 15 books, he wrapped his blanket around his back and sat back in his chair at the table. “You didn’t go to sleep? It’s late.”

She shook her head without looking at him. “I saw lightning, it was close.”   
  
“Yeah,” he said pulling the blanket up to his head and using it like a towel for his hair. “I found something to fill with water, so I put it under one of the awnings and waited for it to fill, I probably need my eyes checked after that flash, it was close, maybe 10 yards from the building. Would have scared the horses bad, but they were already inside.”

Clarke had a flash of the bombs hitting Tondc. They sounded like the loudest thunder and shined brighter than lightning. And she just watched from the hill, like a coward running from the fight.   
  
“Hey,” Bellamy said and it sounded like this wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get her attention. She bit the inside of her cheek to try and shake herself out of the memory. “You okay?” He’d been through so much. He’d suffered things she’d never understand and he was concerned about her right now. She wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry,” she said thickly. His face fell and his eyes softened.

“Let’s not do this,” he said, his voice unsteady. Clarke stood up and walked to him, she scooted herself in between him and the table, and took his face in her hands. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together tightly.

“I’m just so sorry.” Her thumbs stroked across his cheeks and she sniffed to try and hold back her tears. His hands moved to her hips to hold her there and she shivered at the contact. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his. He kissed her back, his mouth opening slightly against hers. She moved her hands to his neck as she continued to kiss him. What started as an apology shifted into something warmer. Her tongue meeting his, she moaned into him, his fingers dug into the skin on her waist at the sound. Clarke’s fingers slipped under his collar as she kissed him, his skin was still damp from outside and she felt goose bumps rise under her fingertips. She felt him tense before he pulled away from her, his breathing erratic and his eyes dazed.

“If you think you’re trading intimacy for forgiveness, stop. Because you’re already forgiven.” His voice was firm but vulnerable and Clarke took a deep breath to let the words wash over her. “I told you that at the gate weeks ago. No matter what has happened it doesn’t mean the terms changed.” 

Clarke shook her head slightly, her brows furrowing. “I wouldn’t.” Bellamy’s gaze shifted to her shoulder, she reached for his chin pulling his eyes to hers. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m ready to accept it now, and I want to do this.” 

Bellamy swallowed and Clarke gave a shy smile before pulling her shirt over her head. He looked at her with a reverence that made her feel weak, and like he knew, he stood up, the blanket he had around him left on the chair. He lifted her easily onto the table and she opened her legs so he stood between them. Clarke moved her hands to his wet hair, he bowed his head and closed his eyes as if in prayer, but he was trying to control his breathing.  She kissed along his forehead, down his jaw careful of the bruise from the fight at the Ark, tasting the sweat and raindrops on his skin. His arm moved up her back, until his fingers slipped under her bra strap. Bellamy played with the strap a bit before he finally slipped it off her shoulder and kissed across her shoulder. She sighed and felt a rush of affection for him knowing exactly how to touch her. She licked at the shell of his ear and reveled in the sharp breath he drew in. She reached for the hem of his t-shirt now and pulled up, he barely moved his lips from her shoulder to allow her to remove his shirt, then he went back to licking and kissing, switching to the other shoulder.

Clarke took her time exploring his bare chest, every bruise, scar, and muscle seemed to stand out as she trailed her hands over him. A flash of lightning outside caused Clarke to close her eyes tight. She wasn’t going to think about Tondc, not now. Bellamy’s lips were on hers suddenly, gently nibbling at her bottom lip first, then kissing her fully, and she felt his fingers drum on her side, first his index, and then middle, then ring, then pinky, the sensation overwhelmed her. Then the sound of thunder shook the windows and her breath caught.   
  
“It’s close,” he said in between kisses. “Didn’t even make it to five.” Another flash and she felt his fingers on her side again, counting the seconds and kissing her. Whether he knew it or not, he’d successfully distracted her from the thoughts of bombs and the city she let burn. She arched her back and hooked her leg around him, trying to get her body closer to his and giving him an invitation to trail his tongue down her neck. In her haze of arousal she had the fleeting thought that maybe she would now dream of lightning and thunder and him surrounding her like this, not dead bodies and fire. 

Clarke scrapped down his back and he groaned. She slipped her fingers into his waistband in the back and slowly dragged them around to the front to open his pants. She reached for his erection once she’d pushed his pants down. His voice was strained as he whispered her name. She whimpered when he popped the button on her pants, his arm stretching behind her to swipe the books to the side (not so careless as to toss them off, though) so he could lower her down on the table. She reached behind herself before she was all the way down and undid her bra.

“I was gonna get to that, I swear,” he said with a smirk, sliding a hand up her side, his thumb coming up under her breast and the rest of his hands molding around the breast. He kneaded gently, the pad of his index finger teasing her nipple and causing her to moan, all while his other hand worked her pants down, she lifted her hips to speed the process up.

“Jesus,” he breathed out standing over her, her skin was hot and she saw again that look of reverence. She felt worshipped and it made her muscles clench. She propped herself up on her elbows and reached for his neck, dragging him down to her for a kiss. She felt his dick on her stomach and when he reached down she felt a jolt of electricity when he took her clit in between his thumb and index finger. Clarke hooked her leg around him and tried to pull him closer, and she heard him let loose a string of curse words that were very creative. 

“More,” she begged shamelessly.

“More what?” he asked pulling back from making his way along her neck, his voice low, the vibration had her clenching again. Words were becoming difficult, but she managed to scoot herself closer to the edge of the table while reaching for him, guiding his length to her entrance. 

“Please,” she said breathless, he moved his fingers down her folds, slipping a finger in, stretching her just a little, he might have said something about her being wet but she wasn’t really listening anymore. She was wound so tightly that her toes were already starting to curl at the limited contact. Clarke’s eyes were closed and her arm reached above her to the end of the table, searching for purchase to push back against Bellamy. He finally thrust into her and she cried out. He leaned over her, lifting her back to meet him halfway, her head lulled as he took a nipple in his mouth, his other hand on her hip as he pumped into her slowly. She propped herself up again on her elbows while he laved at her breasts, switching off and all while moving in and out of her. It didn’t take much, she reached down to her clit and Bellamy moved to cover her hand, his thumb rubbed a circle over her nub and she saw stars. Her arm was unable to hold her up anymore she fell back on the table. He pumped into her twice more before leaning over and lifting her again with his arms behind her back, he’d stopped moving in her, bringing her upright.

She gave him a goofy smile before kissing him softly. “Why are we stopping?” she asked with a little giggle.

“I thought maybe you passed out there for a second,” he answered, playfully. She made a face.

“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit, I mean, you get some, but…” 

“You’re also getting close to the books.” He lifted her off the table and she wrapped her legs around him before he took three steps to lean her against the wall perpendicular to a bookshelf. 

“Oh sure, I might hurt the books, how silly of me, do you want to just put me down and I can leave you alone with your cherished books?” she teased against the skin of his neck in between open-mouthed kisses there.  

“You’re gonna pay for that sass, Griffin,” he said before pushing into her deep, hitting just the right spot. She gasped and let out a few curses of her own. Her nails digging into his shoulder caused him to reciprocate a moan.

“Can’t believe with your book boner you don’t have me against that shelf.” She gestured with her chin to the bookshelf inches away.

“Not safe for the books,” he panted as he pushed into her again. The angle was dizzying, the friction putting pressure on her clit.

“Fuck, keep doing that,” she said, her arms tightening around his neck and her head falling back against the wall. He kept an arm under her ass and put his hand on the wall to brace himself for the last few thrusts that caused them both to tumble over the edge.

 

 --

 

Clarke woke with the weight of Bellamy’s arm around her middle, her head pillowed on his other bicep, her back against his chest, and her own hand holding fast to his forearm. Something to hold on to.

She felt his nose nuzzle into her neck and soon he was peppering kisses there.   
  
“We really need to go,” he said as his finger traced her belly button. The simple phrase brought her back to reality, out of the bliss that permeated her being overnight. Her body felt small and her muscles ached and she felt the exhaustion of living her life seep into her very cells.

“You’re right,” she said turning to face him. “But I don’t know how I can come back with you.”

The ghost of a smile dropped off his face and he nodded. “I know. You were clear before, I didn’t expect…”

She hated this. After the night they’d had where she felt so safe and cherished and even happy. She had to explain. 

“I can’t look in their eyes. Octavia hates me, Jasper doesn’t understand, and he’s not wrong, they’re both…what we did, I can’t.” She closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling. “How do you do it? I know you carry it all, how? The things from before, tell me how and I’ll do it. I want to come back with you, but I don’t know how.”

She tried to steady her breathing, tried to stave off the panic. Clarke felt his hand trail up and down her back in a soothing motion, she tried to inhale and exhale in time with the rhythm of the movement.

“I just swallow it. You told me they needed me, you told me _you_ needed me and I just did it. I push it away and I do better. I know that you need something different than what I need. I get that so if I tell you that they need you, it’s not the same but does it help at all? To keep your head above the water?” 

“They don’t need me,” she argued. “You’ve got bunkhouses going up, food stores being prepped, Raven’s going to plumb the camp. I had no hand in that. All I did was kill people.”

“You kept everyone safe. You did what had to be done.” He was so sure and steady. She almost hated him for it. 

“They hated every decision I made. I fought against everyone, Raven and my mom and Octavia, Lexa kept telling me I wasn’t good enough, people were always pushing back.” She swallowed trying to get passed the lump in her throat.

“So don’t. Don’t lead anybody. Work in medical, work anywhere, lay around all day,” Bellamy said with a weary half smile. “When I say they need you I mean these kids don’t want to lose anyone else.” He paused and blinking slowly, she could see him choosing his words carefully. “Don’t let the weight of them drag you down, but just know that they want you there.”   
  
Bellamy’s eyes were pleading but something shifted in him.

“What if I told you I needed you? I want you to do what you need to do to heal, but…” He stopped and his hand moved from her back to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek feather soft. “I’ll let you go again, I’ll do it, but I have to be honest. I need you and I think maybe you need me.”

Clarke knew. She knew that was it. She wanted him. She needed him. But they needed each other in the way that they just did better together. They could live separately and be fine. Neither of them would shrivel and die apart from the other, he did so much more work in a few days in camp helping to get people motivated than she could have done. And she certainly spent those days in solitude, trying to figure out how to live with her choices and he’d let her leave again and walk the forest to exercise her demons. But she thought back to the days and realized it hadn’t done anything for her. Bellamy gave her another option: with him she could live and even smile. She wasn’t forgetting what she’d done, he just made it easier to live with, putting things in perspective and sharing the weight. God knows she wanted to share the burden now, she was ready for that.

“What if we just snuck me in?” she said cracking a watery smile, tears finally hitting her cheeks. “I can just hide in your tent for a while, avoid my mom, avoid everyone.”   
  
He laughed now before moving to brush his lips across hers. “You’d run into Octavia in there.”   
  
“It’s not a perfect plan, I never have those,” she said before kissing him again.

“I’ll stay with you,” Bellamy promised.   
  
“I never finished my medical training, I can do that.” She kissed along his jaw. “I don’t want anything to do with the council.”   
  
Bellamy chuckled, his breath tickling her ear.   
  
“Sure, we’ll see how long that lasts,” he said as he positioned his hands on her hips to pull her on top of him as he rolled onto his back.   
  
“What is that supposed to mean? You just suggested it!” She gave him a look and then shifted to slide down on his length. They both let out groans of pleasure.   
  
“Your mom and Kane are sort of shit at running things down here, so,” Bellamy paused to thrust into her, pulling himself up on his elbows, Clarke leaned down to kiss him. “I’m sure eventually you’ll get tired of hearing me complain about it and march right in there to fix it. But tell yourself whatever you want.”

 

 

\---

 

Hours later they dismounted from the horses on the ridge overlooking Camp Jaha. She was terrified but Bellamy took her hand. “We could always go back to the library for another day,” he offered but Clarke shook her head.   
  
“I’m sure we’ll be making several trips out there to bring back as many books as you can drag, maybe you can build a cart or something to transport them easier,” she said trying to still her heart with humor.

“Already mentally imaging the cart,” he said grabbing the reigns from the horses.   
  
“I’m ready,” Clarke said steeling herself. Bellamy nodded and they started down the hill. Home.

 

 

 


End file.
